


Vivid Hearts

by JackBamV



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cat/Human Hybrids, Fluff and Smut, Hybrids, M/M, Multi, OT7, Plot With Porn, Polyamory, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBamV/pseuds/JackBamV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson Wang has always been impulsive, but his decision to suddenly buy a hybrid is easily the most spontaneous thing he's ever done. His entire life changes drastically as his new family of two adds more and more members, quickly growing to seven. To make matters even more complicated, love blossoms in far more ways than Jackson had expected, leaving his makeshift family transformed in its wake. </p><p>(Basically, an OT7 fic where most GOT7 members are various types of hybrids and Jackson is the lonely man who loves them all in different ways. Expect smut in most possible combinations [including but not limited to the tagged ships] as the story develops. The tagged ships are the ones that receive the most focus, but various relationships will be explored over the course of the story.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Impulse Buy

Jackson had never really thought about owning a hybrid. Not even a little.

He was really the perfect candidate for one. The lump sum he’d inherited from his favorite aunt’s death several years prior ensured he’d have no problem providing for a dependent. And truthfully, his house did feel a bit too large for it’s lone inhabitant.

Still, hybrids just seemed too foreign to be comfortable.

In Jackson’s old world, hybrids were more legend than reality. They were still so much rarer than pure humans, and they were carefully bred for the wealthy class. Jackson’s own family struggled to make rent for their tiny apartment. His childhood and teenage days were spent sweeping shop floors, washing dishes, mowing lawns- really, taking any work he could get. His family needed it, they’d always worked hard because they really had to.

Or so he thought at the time. 

In actuality, his parents were the only ones out of all their relatives who struggled. They were the ones who were outcasts, poverty-stricken where they easily could have lived comfortably, but were instead doomed to a life of pain and hard work due to their own selfish choices.

His parents weren’t struggling anymore, Jackson made sure of that. But he still hadn’t entirely forgiven them either. Still, without them, the space of his (also inherited) lavish home was more lonely than he ever could have imagined.

But hybrids always gave him the creeps. Their ears and tails were beautiful, sure, but they looked more like they belonged in a fairy tale than in his own living room.

So Jackson had always politely declined his family’s offers to find him a reputable dealer. His surviving two uncles and their own families both housed hybrids of their own, but Jackson had never been able to look the haughty creatures in the eye.

Now, however, he was having second thoughts.

He was standing at the cross walk, waiting for the light to change. His car was parked a block away from the restaurant he’d just eaten dinner at, and he was anxious to get home. It’d been a long day, and he craved his soft pajamas and his nightly dessert of warm milk and a muffin. He couldn’t help but stare ahead, trying to avoid staring at the light to will it to turn faster.

Straight ahead just happened to be a swank hybrid shop. And in that shop window, there just happened to be the cutest boy Jackson had ever laid eyes on- hybrid or not.

Jackson stared. He felt like the air had left his lungs. How could one boy possibly be so cute? Was it his round cheeks? The fluffiness of his dark hair? Or perhaps the pink streak of his fringe? 

Jackson tried to avert his eyes, but just couldn’t look away. The hybrid looked up, looked straight into his eyes. He looked a bit concerned at first but quickly offered a small wave and a smile.

There was no hope left for Jackson to move on at that point. He had to talk to that boy. 

The crosswalk beeped sharply, announcing the light had changed. Jackson sprinted across the street, running up to the door of the shop and wrenching it open. His heart beat loudly in his chest, but he knew it wasn’t from the exercise. 

He vaguely registered a salesperson greeting him but he couldn’t really pay attention. The small boy was half turned towards him, still standing in between other hybrids in the window display. He looked a little scared and Jackson’s heart squeezed at the vulnerability on his face.

Jackson stepped towards the boy, still maintaining a bit of distance before speaking.

“Hi. I’m Jackson. I..” He trailed off, not really knonwing what to say. To be fair, he’d only seen this boy about a minute ago and that wasn’t nearly long enough to form a game plan. And now, up close, he could see what was impossible to see from across the street. Inky black cat ears and a slinky dark tail. 

The boy just faced down shyly, looking up through thick lashes. His eyes were light olive green, pupils clearly inhuman in shape. Jackson already felt awkward.

“Er… What’s your name? I mean, you have one, right?” The boy nodded slightly, head still bent to the floor.

“I’m Bambam.” If Jackson thought the boy was cute, his voice was the most adorable thing in the universe. Jackson suppressed the urge to launch forward and embrace him, instead continuing the conversation.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Bambam looked a bit surprised, but responded quickly enough.

“I’m sixteen.” Jackson hummed a bit, mulling over the information. From what he knew about hybrids, they usually weren’t sold until they were eighteen or so. 

“I’m twenty-one. Thats..” Jackson stopped to count it out, looking down at his fingers to help visualize the numbers more out of habit than need. “Five years older.” Bambam nodded before responding.

“You’re really young, aren’t you?” Jackson snapped up, glad that the younger boy had taken the initiative to respond on his own. 

“Yeah, but you’re one to talk! Sixteen! You’re still a baby!” Jackson smiled as Bambam crossed his arms and stamped his foot lightly. However, his smile dropped as his eyes followed the movement of the hybrid’s feet. His other foot was chained to a round peg firmly attached to the window display, and it certainly didn’t look comfortable. 

“Hey! Watch how you act in front of customers! You’ll never be sold at his rate.” Jackson had actually forgotten the presence of the woman at the counter altogether, but now that she was close to him and interupting his conversation with a shrill reprimand, he wished she could’ve remained forgotten. 

Jackson’s frown only got deeper when Bambam’s smile vanished as he returned to hanging his head low, shifting back a bit so he was closer to the glass of the shop window.

“Is she always this bitchy to you guys?” Bambam’s head snapped up as his plump lips formed a perfect ‘o’ of shock. The woman’s face turned red as she stammered, looking for words to respond.

“I’m not- They’re hybrids! They don’t care. Are you even looking for a hybrid, or are you just here to try and provoke the pets?” Jackson could feel his temperature rising. He’d only been in the shop for a few minutes and he was sure of two things.  
1.) He hated this woman and  
2.) There was no way in hell he was leaving Bambam there.

“As a matter of fact, I am looking for a hybrid. But I’m not sure I want to buy one from someone like you.” Her face only got redder, arms flying to cross her chest as she bit her lip.

A tense moment passed where Jackson stared at the saleswoman, she stared at some display slightly to the left, and Bambam attempted to melt into the ground.

Jackson finally broke the silence by speaking again. “Lucky for you, I want Bambam so much that I’ll buy him from you anyway. Even though you were like, super rude. I mean, what happened to ‘the customer is always right?’, huh?” Her mouth flopped open in a way that reminded Jackson of a fish, but he wasn’t all that concerned with her at the moment.

“Bambam, is that alright? Will you go home with me? I know we don’t know each other all that well but I like you and I think we can be good friends if you give me a shot.” The younger boy was obviously stunned, but only took a moment before nodding enthusiastically. Jackson could feel himself start to calm down a bit just looking at the wide grin now gracing Bambam’s face. He didn’t bother turning away from Bambam while he reached for his wallet.

“Then that’s settled. I’m taking Bambam with me.” When the saleswoman didn’t respond, Jackson felt forced to rip his gaze away from where he really wanted to keep it to see what was wrong now.

“Are you serious? Like, really serious? You haven’t even asked his price or breed or- or anything, really.” Jackson shrugged as he got out his debit card.

“I can afford him, I’m sure. Just ring me up.” The woman shook her head slightly to herself, but took his card and started to back away. Jackson stopped her by grabbing her shoulder as she turned her back.

“Wait, before you go away, let Bambam down. I want to take him to pick out a new collar.” The woman scoffed a bit, but did grab a key off of a ring full of them, and clicked open the lock. Bambam hesitantly moved his left foot back and forth, testing how it felt to be free from the shackle. Jackson extended his arm in an offer to assist him with his balance, and Bambam easily linked his own arm with Jackson’s. 

There was a decently sized wall of collars, in varying colors and styles. Bambam looked apprehensively up at them. Jackson noticed that it looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back, so he nudged his side gently before reassuring him.

“Did you want to say something? If you do, please say it. I don’t give a shit about wanting a quiet hyrbid or whatever the hell that bitch was going on about.” Said bitch huffed audibly from the cash register, but Jackson ignored her, instead focusing on the boy beside him. 

“Well..” Jackson nodded, wanting Bambam to know it was fine to speak. “I just never expected to be able to pick something like this. I don’t know how.” Jackson was perplexed for a second before it occurred to him that if most hybrid owners had expectations like this saleswoman’s, hybrids probably didn’t get much choice at all. 

“We can start with one part of it at a time. Do you have a color you like?” Bambam bit his lip, obviously deep in thought. 

“I don’t think so. I like different things about different colors.” 

“Do you like pink? Your hair is pink. Well, some of it is.” Bambam shrugged his shoulders. 

“I do like pink, I guess, but I didn’t decide on that for my hair. Pink matches my sales theme.”

“Sales theme?” Bambam’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back up to the collars. 

“It’s not that important, at least not with you, I don’t think. I mean, if that wasn’t out of place for me to say!” Jackson reached forward and rubbed Bambam’s arm gently, recognizing the rising panic in his tone. 

“You can say whatever you want to me. But if you say it’s not important, then it’s not important.” Bambam relaxed again and gave a soft smile before turning back to the collars. He narrowed his eyes in appraisal before pointing to the top shelf.

“I like that one.”

“The white one?” Bambam nodded. Jackson swung his arm up to get the saleswoman’s attention. 

“Can we get this collar down off that shelf and you can just add that to the card?” She nodded and moved over with a small step stool to get it off its high perch. 

Ripping the cardboard backing away from the off-white leather felt extremely satisfying, but it paled in comparison to the way it felt when his hands clasped the buckle around Bambam’s neck, the younger boy beaming up at him as he did so. 

His card was handed back to him and he was led to the register to sign some forms. He signed them quickly, wanting to be given permission to take Bambam away from the store. He was given a stack of papers- Bambam’s history and legal documentation- and then he was finally free to go.

Jackson stepped away from the counter, turning from the saleswoman’s tight-lipped smile to Bambam’s genuine and warm one. He offered Bambam his hand and Bambam quickly grabbed it, lacing his fingers in with Jackson’s own.

As they walked out the door, Jackson felt giddy. He hadn’t had much to be happy about lately, but having someone as sweet as Bambam around could only make things better.

For the first time in a long time, Jackson felt hopeful about what came next.


	2. A Restless Night

It was two hours after midnight, and Jackson couldn’t sleep.

Insomnia was as foreign to Jackson has hybrids had been until merely hours before. He always set his alarm bright and early, ready to start his morning workout (the first of several throughout the day). All the physical activity ensured he was always tired by nightfall. When he was still living with his parents, the long hours spent at work made him grateful for any amount of time he could spend in a bed.

Jackson groaned as he turned onto his other side, snuggling down into the soft blanket beneath him. He kept a fuzzy blanket over his sheets for maximum softness, and he never got too hot because now he could actually afford the air conditioning he’d longed for in the past.

Still, even though he ached with exhaustion, even though his room was cooled to a perfect temperature and he was surrounded on all sides by fluffy blankets- he just couldn’t sleep.

No, sleeping was for people who weren’t busy thinking. And right now, Jackson was thinking about quite a bit.

His actions from earlier that day hadn’t really sunk in for some amount of time. He didn’t think about the weight of his impulse decision on the way out of the store, hand-in-hand with an adorable cat-hybrid. He hadn’t thought about it when Bambam bounced as they walked to the car, exhilarated with his new amount of freedom. He hadn’t even thought about it when they entered their newly shared home and Jackson had told Bambam to pick out a guest room to live in. The house had five extra bedrooms, but Bambam had picked the smallish one directly to the left of Jackson’s own room. 

No, Jackson hadn’t considered it at all until he climbed into bed. Then everything came rushing forward all at once.

He had taken on a huge responsibility, he knew. He’d never even had a pet before. The plants that were in his inherited house died weeks after he moved in.

He couldn’t just forget to take care of Bambam like he did those flowers and trees. Bambam was obviously a much bigger responsibility than any kind of animal or plant. 

At that thought, his heart lurched as he went over what had happened in the last few hours. He hadn’t asked Bambam if he was hungry, or offered him anything to drink. He’d shown Bambam the kitchen on a brief tour of his new home, but the house was huge and he had a feeling Bambam had never had a need to remember directions before.

And even if Bambam remembered, how likely would it be for him to actually go get something for himself? From what he’d seen, Bambam had never had any amount of freedom at all. He’d been shocked several times from what little the younger boy had said about his previous living conditions.

When Bambam saw his new bed, he’d jumped down and snuggled into the sheets immediately, clutching the pillows close to his chest. Jackson was about to apologize for the boring white (and not all that soft) sheets when Bambam declared how happy he was to actually have a bed.

Jackson’s confusion turned to disgust after he asked Bambam what exactly he meant by that. Bambam explained that in the shop, Bambam had slept in the store window, ankle still pegged to the display. 

The injustice of it all made Jackson’s stomach turn. He didn’t regret his decision to take Bambam home with him so soon.

Even so, he couldn’t help but worry over every possible thing.

All he really wanted was to go next door and make sure the hybrid was alright. Make sure he wasn’t hungry or scared or lonely.

Jackson had only known him for a few hours, and Bambam had barely spoken at all, but Jackson still felt too far away from the younger. His room was lonelier than he remembered, too spacious and empty to be comforting. 

Still, Jackson didn’t want to disturb Bambam, who was probably sleeping (like Jackson really should've been hours ago).The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt Bambam’s first night in a cozy bed.

Sleep just wasn’t happening for him. He jumped off the bed in one fluid motion, energy coursing through his body. He paced around the room quickly, trying to disperse his anxiety in each heavy step. 

It wasn’t really helping, but it was better than just lying still.

A quiet knock pulled him from his thoughts, making him jump backwards as he turned to stare at the door.

His brow furrowed as he contemplated whether he’d actually heard a knock or was just imagining things. But, even if his imagination was running wild, there was a chance Bambam was outside his door. That prospect was enough for him to sprint across the room and wrench the door open quickly, too quickly.

Bambam jumped back, ears flat against his head and pupils huge. His tail stuck straight out and his fur bristled outward.

“Oh, shit! I didn’t mean to scare you! Are you- Are you okay?” Bambam nodded, and his tail moved downwards but his ears remained flattened. 

“Er..”, Jackson wasn’t entirely sure what to say. “Did you need something? I realized after I went to bed that I forgot to offer you dinner and that was really shitty of me so I’m sorry about that.” Bambam shifted his eyes away, looking slightly down before answering.

“Actually, I heard you pacing and I got kind of worried. It’s just, you’ve been nice and this all just doesn’t seem real and I know it’s been super fast and all but please don’t take me back! I’m good, I promise! If you keep me you can do whatever you want and I promise it’ll be good, I’ve been well-trained and everything!” Jackson was shocked yet again. He bit his lip, trying to concentrate on what the younger boy was actually worried about.

“Bambam… I’m not going to take you back. Ever.” Bambam looked up and Jackson could see the tears forming in his round eyes. He was overwhelmed with a protective feeling and instinctively stepped closer to the hybrid, reaching his fingers to Bambam’s cheek. Bambam leaned into the touch, obviously needing the contact as sobs escaped his lips.

“Look, Bambam.” He was facing the floor again, trying to stare anywhere but Jackson. “Please, look at me, I need you to understand something.” Bambam’s beautiful green eyes finally locked onto Jackson’s own and he felt relieved to see that the younger was at least listening and coherent. 

“Bambam, I know we haven’t really talked all that much yet. And I know we don’t really know anything about each other. So that’s why I’m just going to tell you this. I made a promise in that store, whether you realized it or not. When I said I wanted to get to know you, I meant it. I still do, more than anything.” Bambam sniffed gently and opening his mouth, trying to respond but choking on his words. Jackson gave him a moment to regain his voice.

“Bu-But what if you get to know me and you don’t li-like…” He trailed off, voice already fading again.

“Well, I don’t see that happening. You’re just so sweet and I’m sure we’ll get along. But even if we don’t, I’m not taking you back. We could be..” Jackson took a moment to think about the possible scenario before finishing his sentence. “We could be like room mates. You would still live here and I’d pay for your clothes and food and stuff but you wouldn’t have to talk to me.” The hybrid’s mouth popped open, shock temporarily replacing the distress previously evident. 

“Really? You’d really just… Just let me stay here?”

“Of course!” Jackson answered without any hint of hesitation. “I mean, it would make me a bit sad. Because I like you and want to be friends. It’s lonely here by myself. But, if you decided that, I wouldn’t kick you out or anything.” Bambam sniffled again, pulling the overly long sleeve of his sweater up to his face to wipe the tears from his eyes. Jackson couldn’t help but find the action sweet, even as he wished it didn’t have to be a product of Bambam’s tears.

“Can I hold you?” Jackson barely had the words out of his mouth before the cat-boy hurdled into his arms, knocking the wind out of his lungs at the sheer force of the embrace. Bambam clung to his t-shirt, now back to openly sobbing into the older boy’s shoulder. Jackson’s arms naturally wrapped around Bambam’s thin frame, hands settling on the sides of his waist. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Jackson figured Bambam probably was crying about more than just the events of the night, keeping in mind the few details he knew of Bambam’s past. Later, he’d try and ask questions, find out exactly what demons Bambam had faced. For now, rubbing soft circles onto Bambam’s back was the best thing he could think to do. 

Holding Bambam should have felt weird, really. But Jackson only felt warmth and comfort from the younger boy’s touch. He took a deep breath as he clung to Bambam, leaning closer and closer. Jackson had always been a bit clingy in the past, but even so he hadn’t realized how much he missed physical contact until that very moment.

Bambam’s sobbing gradually got quieter and quieter, eventually turning to silent tears. Jackson’s own eyes had been watering for a few minutes, but he tried his best to keep it together for Bambam’s sake. 

The peace of the moment ended up being broken by the loud sound of Bambam’s stomach growling. Jackson couldn’t help laughing after his initial shock at the sudden sound, and Bambam’s own laugh soon followed. His laugh was deeper than Jackson had expected, scratchy from his sobs but so, so sweet to hear. 

As they walked to the kitchen, hand-in-hand, Jackson vowed to himself to make sure Bambam laughed like that every day, as often as possible. He had a feeling Bambam needed the humor as much as Jackson needed to hear the sound. 

~~~

The two ended up curled on the love seat Jackson had never really used. Before, he’d always taken the reclining-rocking chair, but before he’d never had someone to keep close. 

After Bambam was well-fed and surrounded by the warmth of a throw blanket, he nestled into Jackson’s side. It only took a few minutes for him to drift off, his breathing even and slow. 

Bambam was just too cute. Jackson resisted the urge to brush back the pink fringe that was falling into Bambam’s eyes; he didn’t want to wake him. 

Jackson was a bit surprised at how much he wanted to take care of the younger. After all, he had no siblings and had never even had a pet, so it was an entirely new feeling.

Something about Bambam made Jackson ache with the need to protect him. He was virtually a stranger, but Jackson knew that he was already more than that. The second he’d committed to taking care of Bambam, the two were bonded together. As Jackson sleepily snuggled back down into the younger, all he could think about was how excited he was to get to know Bambam better. He wanted to learn everything about Bambam. What his voice sounded like when he sang, what foods he liked best, what hobbies he’d take an interest in, what his face looked like when he was angry… Jackson wanted to know it all. 

The last thoughts he had before joining Bambam in sleep were content, happy to think about the time he’d get to share with his new friend. 

It was funny how easy it was to be optimistic about the future when you had someone to share it with.


	3. "Crybaby"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to clarify that both Jackson and Bambam (and the other boys, as they enter the story) have the basic appearances/personalities of Girls, Girls, Girls era. This is because I'm going to age all the boys gradually (This is especially relevant for Bambam, since he's only 16 in the story right now and in real life he's definitely matured quite a bit).

Jackson woke up with freezing feet. 

He tried to pull down the blanket to cover his whole body, but it wasn’t big enough. Confused, he opened his eyes to a squint. He relaxed back down onto the couch when he realized he was using the blanket he kept in the living room, the one Bambam had used last night.

Bambam.

He jumped up, feeling the absence of the younger boy before he opened his eyes to check. He couldn’t help but feel a bit panicked when his new housemate wasn’t in the room. He was still feeling fuzzy from sleep, but he stumbled onto his feet, trying to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes as he scanned the room.

Bambam must have put a pillow under his head, and he must have been the one to tuck Jackson in. Even in his disorientated state, he couldn’t help but smile when he realized that Bambam had taken the stuffed rabbit off of the mantlepiece where it normally served as a decoration, instead placing it next to a sleeping Jackson on the couch.

He pat the rabbit on the head before shuffling into the hallway. 

There was a weird clacking sound coming from the kitchen, so he moved that way. It was only a few doors down from the living room he’d just left.

His kitchen was spacious, as were most of the rooms in his house. It boasted two refrigerators, a deep freezer, a sleek breakfast bar with high stools, and more appliances than Jackson would ever use. 

Truthfully, the only things he used were one of the fridges and occasionally the oven. Jackson Wang wasn’t much of a cook. He’d never had much space or ingredients to work with growing up, and he wasn’t sure how to learn at this point. 

That was why he was sure this kitchen hadn’t smelled so good in years, not since his aunt had passed away. There was a pot on the burner and a frying pan with a shallow layer of what looked like bubbling oil. Bambam himself stood to the side, chopping up slices of lunch meat. 

Jackson didn’t want to startle Bambam, especially since he was holding a knife and stood inches from hot oil. So he walked over, as quietly as he could manage, to the breakfast bar, content to watch the younger work.

The hybrid still had the same clothes on as yesterday. Jackson knew he’d need to buy him some more. The older boy could loan him some, but Bambam’s tiny and shorter frame probably wouldn’t work very well for sharing. Plus, he must have some kind of hole for his tail. Jackson reached for his phone before realizing he’d left it in his bedroom last night. So much for looking up some stores. 

Bambam started humming happily, clearly absorbed in his work. Jackson leaned forward a bit, closing his eyes as he listened. Bambam didn’t have the best singing voice, if his strained humming was any indication, but Jackson could at least make out the song. Something by Girl’s Day. Maybe Bambam liked them. He made a mental note to ask Bambam later. If he did like them, they could get some CD’s. 

If Bambam had CD’s, he’s need a CD player. He added that to the shopping list he was already forming in his head. Clothes, Girl’s Day album, CD Player… Maybe some new sheets. Some fun pillows. A few posters. Bambam’s room looked boring, and that wasn’t okay. In Jackson’s opinion, the absolute worst thing something could be was boring. 

The younger reached over and grabbed two eggs, breaking the shells against the side of the boiling pot before dropping their content into the hot oil in the frying pan. He moved the pan in a small circle, coating its bottom with eggs. 

The movement was so, so graceful. Jackson was a bit stunned by every mundane thing Bambam did. Somehow, his actions always seemed so precise, so smooth. It was something he’d noticed as they left the hybrid store the previous night. Even Bambam’s excited bouncing seemed controlled in a way that no human could quite compete with. 

Just as he reached the end of the song, Bambam turned around, taking a step towards the fridge. When he looked up and saw Jackson, he jumped back a bit, clearly surprised. Jackson bit his lip to hold in his sigh. His plan to avoid scaring the younger hadn’t worked one bit.

“Good morning, Bambam. I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry.” Bambam shook his head quickly before nervously shuffling his feet. 

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s your house after all.” Jackson did let out a sigh at that, and Bambam’s ears perked up at the sound before flattening. He quickly changed his posture to a bow, which only served to confuse the older. 

“Uh… You don’t need to do that. Why are you doing that?” Bambam’s tail dropped from where it had been lightly swaying behind him as he looked up, blushing furiously. 

“I just… I thought you were disappointed because I didn’t bow. Or that you were upset because I talked out of turn. Did I get things wrong? Oh my god, I’m always getting things wrong!” Bambam was now wringing his hands together, shuffling his feet even more than before. Jackson quickly stepped down from his barstool, walking over to the distressed hybrid.

“Hey, hey. You’re doing fine. Everything is fine.” Jackson reached over and stroked Bambam’s arm. “I was just upset that you still haven’t realized this is your house, too. I don’t want you to be my servant. We can…” Jackson thought for a moment, trying to think of a way to make him understand. “We can talk about it over breakfast. Like, we can talk about what we expect from each other and everything. Okay?” Jackson looked down at Bambam, searching for understanding. Bambam looked back into his eyes, nodding quickly before his mouth dropped open and he turned back to the stove.

“Breakfast! I just turned around to get some cheese out of the fridge for the omelette! Ugh, it’s going to burn!” The younger was already flipping the eggs over. Jackson took that as his cue to get the packet of cheese out of the fridge. 

He handed over the cheese and leaned back against the counter, watching Bambam work. Jackson was honestly impressed with Bambam’s efforts. Jackson hardly ever cooked anything more complicated than frozen pizza rolls or ramen, and he didn’t keep the kitchen well-stocked. Still, Bambam had managed to put together breakfast. Looking at the stove, Bambam had made an omelette out of eggs, lunch meat, and sliced cheese. The boiled pot had been turned down to a simmer, as Bambam dumped in a packet of ramen noodles. The oven light was on, so something must be inside, but Jackson couldn’t see it.

“Hey, Bambam, what’s in the oven?” Bambam turned slightly, enough to look at Jackson while still keeping an eye on the eggs. 

“It’s toast. I know this breakfast will have a lot of carbs, but you don’t really have much to choose from.” Jackson nodded before responding.

“Yeah, I don’t do much cooking.” Bambam smiled a bit, shaking his head just slightly.

“Don’t worry, I can tell.” Jackson’s head snapped up, surprised with Bambam’s teasing response. The hybrid flushed red, realizing what he’d said. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Jackson’s howling laughter.

Bambam let out a huge sigh of relief, tension melting from his shoulders before he joined Jackson’s laughs with his own giggles.

~~~

Bambam had started to set the plates on the breakfast bar, but Jackson objected, instead suggested they take their meal out to the patio in the backyard. The sliding door that led outside wasn’t that much farther, and Jackson told Bambam it would be nice to eat outside. 

Really, he just wanted to sit somewhere he could face the younger. Jackson had a feeling they’d be talking about quite a lot, and he wanted to be able to gauge how Bambam was feeling. Especially since Bambam hardly ever seemed to be able to actually say what he meant. 

So the two had carried all the plates out onto the table. Jackson spent more time here than he did most of the house. The spacious yard was surrounded by high wooden fences. There were bushes lining those fences on all sides, and a lovely stone path led to a huge tree situated in the back left corner.

Jackson liked it outside, and he could tell Bambam did too. His ears were twitching lightly, smile wide as he looked around.

“What are you thinking about?” Jackson couldn’t help but ask. Bambam turned his glance, obviously pulled out of his own thoughts.

“It’s not that important or anything, it’s just…” Jackson nodded, trying to encourage him to speak more. “I was just thinking about how that tree might be good for a swing. You see that big branch over there?” He pointed up and Jackson hummed in understanding. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be on a swing. I used to see swings in the catalogues we used to read.” 

“Catalogues?” It seemed kind of off to Jackson that Bambam would have been reading sales magazines, but Bambam nodded his head, evidently not seeing any strangeness at all.

“Yeah, they gave us old catalogues so we wouldn’t forget how to read. And we’d sometimes be given assignments so we’d remember math, like adding up prices to reach a certain budget. It’s important to know these things in case we’re bought by a master that doesn’t want to do it, or an elderly person who forgets.” Jackson nodded and picked up a piece of toast, nibbling on the crust as he thought. There was a moment of comfortable silence before Jackson decided to make an offer.

“Do you want me to get a swing? That does actually sound like a good idea. We could get one of those wooden ones with the back so more than one person can sit. Or did you want like a tire swing?” Bambam’s brows furrowed as he bit down on his own slice of toast; Jackson could almost hear the tiny gears working in the hybrid’s head. 

“I don’t know. The ones attached to trees were always like, kind of flat? That I saw, anyway. I don’t really know how to say…” He trailed off, and Jackson understood the feeling. Words could be tough to express. 

“That’s alright. We’re going shopping after breakfast, so we can drop by an outdoors store and see what they have.” Bambam looked even more confused.

“Shopping? You mean like, together?”

“Well, yeah. We need to get some things. I was thinking we could get some new stuff for your room, because it’s kind of boring now. And some new clothes. You know, stuff like that.” Bambam looked flustered again, dropping his toast onto his plate as he waved his palms dismissively.

“Oh, you don’t need to do that! It’s very kind of you, but I’ve been expensive enough, I’m sure. I won’t be any more trouble to you.” Jackson sighed heavily, leaning back against his chair as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

“Bambam. I thought you were starting to understand. You’re not a burden. You’re my friend. And friends don’t let friends live without the joy of fuzzy blankets. That just wouldn’t be right. I won’t force you to go shopping, but I’d really prefer if you were there so you could get your own stuff. I want you to be able to pick it out. After all, you’re the one wearing and living in what we get. Okay?” Bambam looked down a bit before looking back up and nodding. 

“I understand. I’m sorry if I’m frustrating you. It’s just… We weren’t trained for the kind of master that you are. I’m glad you’re so nice, I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to act.” Jackson offered a reassuring smile, extending his hand out for the younger. It only took a second for Bambam to latch on, intertwining their fingers together. 

“I’m glad you told me that. I just want you to be honest with me, okay? And like I said, I’m not your master. I guess officially I am, in the paperwork and all, but you don’t need to call me that.”  
“Then what should I call you?” Jackson thought about it for a moment, before settling on what seemed perfect.

“What about ‘hyung’? Like, ‘Jackson-hyung’? Because I am older than you, after all?” Bambam looked quite apprehensive and Jackson’s heart lurched as he braced himself for Bambam saying it wasn't formal enough, or even worse, deciding the new friendship wasn’t something he wanted. The last thing Jackson wanted was for Bambam to retreat back into his shell; he felt like the pair was making real progress.

“O… Okay. Jackson-hyung.” Bambam smiled and the combination of seeing his toothy grin and hearing the sweet way the younger said his name was overwhelming to Jackson. He willed his heart to slow down as he stood up, walking over to his new friend and pulling him into his arms. He briefly worried if it was too sudden, but Bambam wrapped his small arms around his back, effectively silencing his concerns.

Jackson had always needed skin-ship, so he was relieved that Bambam seemed to crave it too, from what he’d seen so far. 

~~~

None of Jackson’s pants would fit Bambam at all, the slouchy style of the dropped crotch present in most pairs not making things any better. Still, Jackson could at least offer him a shirt. 

Bambam looked so adorable in the oversized black t-shirt, ‘WANG’ printed in bold letters on the back. The shirt was purposefully too long on Jackson, and Bambam was easily a few inches shorter.

Bambam was bouncing with every step, tail pointed up and wagging in soft, fluid motions. As they got into Jackson’s car, the older’s curiosity was killing him.

“Hey, Bambam. Don’t cats normally wag their tails when they’re mad? I mean- no offense or anything. I know you aren’t like, actually a cat. Wait, are you?” Jackson’s brows furrowed as they pulled out of the driveway, and he chanced a glance at the boy in the passenger seat, who looked more than a bit puzzled himself.

“Do.. Do you not know about hybrids? The ears and tail and all are real. I’m mostly human, but I’ve got some cat in me.” Jackson nodded, eyes back on the road.

“Sorry, I don’t really know anything about hybrids at all. I used to be poor so I hadn’t really met one before. You don’t really see hybrids on that side of town.” Bambam turned in his seat to face Jackson, surprised at his response.

“Wait, really? But you were looking for a hybrid, right? That’s what you said before you bought me.” Jackson felt a bit sheepish about answering, but didn’t even have to think about whether or not to tell the truth. Jackson Wang was many things, but he wasn’t a liar. He prided himself on that, if nothing else. After all, he wasn’t the same as his parents.

“I actually wasn’t really looking for one. I was just on my way back to my car and I saw you in the shop window. And I just had this er.. connection? I guess? I just really wanted to talk to you. Like, the way you waved to me just seemed so sweet. The only hybrids I’ve met before were my relatives’ hybrids, and they always seem so haughty and unapproachable. But you weren’t?” At that, Jackson peeked over at the younger, who seemed understanding. Jackson let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t being judged for it.

“Can I tell you something, Jackson-hyung?” Jackson nodded eagerly.

“Of course!” Bambam smiled just a bit before looking down shyly. Still, he opened his mouth to continue.

“I felt kind of the same. I mean, in that shop window, a lot of people stare at us. Especially tourists, since it’s a fashion district, and a lot of people who aren’t from the wealthier circles don’t see much of us. But the way you were looking at me wasn’t like that.” Jackson waited a moment for Bambam to finish saying what he meant, but when it seemed like he’d stopped, he couldn’t help but try to get the younger to say more.

“In what way? How was it different, I mean.” Bambam bit his lip and hummed contemplatively before speaking again.

“It just was. Usually people look at us like they… Like they want us. If they can afford hybrids, they either go in the store or don’t even notice us. But other people, you can tell they wish they owned us too. Or they just gawk at us. Like we’re… What’s the word? The one for, um… Like people who aren’t from this world?” Jackson thought about it for a second.

“Aliens?” Bambam jumped up, excited with finding the word he was looking for.

“Yes! Aliens! That’s how people look at us. But you didn’t act like I was an alien. You smiled at me. You seemed friendly. So, I waved. Honestly, I was kind of hoping you’d come over and talk to me, but I wasn’t expecting it or anything. I was actually shocked when I saw you run towards the store.” Jackson thought about what had happened only the night before, even if it seemed like it’d been longer ago. He really didn’t even remember smiling at Bambam. In his memories, he’d stared with his mouth open like a dead fish. He started to say as much, but Bambam started speaking again just as he opened his own mouth. 

“I’m glad I waved at you. We aren’t supposed to do that. It makes us seem too forward, since we’re hybrids and all. ‘Submission above all’, that’s the motto we’re taught. But I’m glad I did, if it brought you to me. If it brought me a friend.” Jackson’s grin was so big now that he could barely see, his eyes trying to close despite himself. Luckily, he was just pulling into the shopping center parking lot and it wasn’t long before he could stop the car.

As soon as he parked, he clicked off his seatbelt and lurched forward into Bambam’s arms. Bambam caught him gracefully, much better than Jackson had really expected, considering his size. Jackson, for once in his life, couldn’t find words to respond. All he could do was cling tightly to the younger, burying his face in Bambam’s shoulders. Luckily, Bambam was the one who spoke first.

“I’ve never had a friend before. I’ve heard about them, but I never thought I’d actually have one. The only possibility for having one was if there was already a nice hybrid living at the home of whoever bought me. I never expected to be friends with a human at all, but I’m already glad we’re friends.” Jackson was still at a loss for words, feeling too overwhelmed to say much. Finally, finally, he found his voice.

“Bambam, I’m so happy we’re friends too! I’ve been so lonely, so lonely. I’m so happy you’re letting me be close to you, I’m so happy you’re talking to me n-now.” Jackson choked on the end of his sentence, fighting the urge to cry.

It was Jackson Wang’s biggest shame throughout his life. He’d always been an easy crier. A “crybaby”, as everyone around him said. 

He cried whenever he was scolded, even at work, no matter how much he tried not to. He cried when he was teased, especially about his height. He teared up when he thought about how hungry he was, when he longed for a taste of bacon or beef. He was the only one in the family who openly weeped at dramas, movies, sometimes even sports. Both happy and sad tears.

He sobbed for hours when he had to quit school to take on more jobs. 

And now, in the parking lot of a huge shopping center, he cried in a cat-hybrid’s arms. A cat-hybrid that rubbed soft circles on his back, whispering comforting words and humming girl groups’ songs under his breath.

He kept trying to open his mouth to explain to Bambam, to apologize for the wimpy behavior that he’d been laughed at and mocked for all of his life. Jackson’s saving grace had always been his humor. He’d resolved many a tense, tear-filled moment with a self-deprecating joke. 

But somehow, he didn’t need to explain anything to Bambam. Without saying anything at all, Bambam seemed to understand. Jackson searched the cat-boy’s face for any hints of judgement, but found none at all.

So Jackson continued to cry, letting it all out at last. After finding out about his parent’s betrayal, after the loss of the aunt who’d cared so much about him, he hadn’t allowed himself any tears. He had to be strong now, he was a grown man, all on his own in the world. Grown men shouldn’t cry, or so he told himself.

But now, it seemed okay. Bambam made it okay, with his kind understanding and lack of harsh words. With the way he gently wiped the tears from Jackson’s face.

Jackson drew in shaky breaths as he calmed down. He’d be okay. He’d be fine. After all, he wasn’t alone in the world anymore.

He had Bambam, and Bambam had him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who's read my story so far! Also, I'm very grateful for your feedback and kudos.


	4. Need

Jackson’s hands shook nervously as he buttoned up his dress shirt. 

He’d never gotten used to parties, not at all.

Unfortunately, they were a necessary evil for him to maintain his current lifestyle. He knew if he skipped them, word would spread to his family. And them his relatives would come check on him, pretending like they cared.

If they really cared about Jackson, they would have tried to help him years ago. But only his beloved, now-deceased, Aunt Sophia ever really gave a shit about his wellbeing.

She’d tried to help, but Jackson’s parents hadn’t let her. Still, the fact that she was there for him, the fact that she never stopped trying, reassured Jackson that at least someone had loved him. 

Of course, now there was also Bambam.

Jackson smiled a bit as he turned to inspect the pale blue dress shirt in his full-length mirror. Bambam cared about him, he cared a lot.

They’d been living together for around two weeks now, and things had gotten so much better.

Bambam opened up a lot more after Jackson’s crying spell in the car. Jackson hated that it happened at first, ashamed like always at his own weakness. Now, he was actually a bit grateful for it. Bambam seemed more comfortable around him. 

Jackson thought maybe Bambam trusted him more, realizing that Jackson bought him only wanting a friend, not some sort of slave.

Living with Bambam was great. They’d adjusted easily to being near each other. Bambam was actually a bit loud, now that he wasn’t so shy. He constantly sang, and Jackson loved to hear him even though his singing skills were less than great. 

Bambam also discovered he liked to dance, his loud steps and high jumps making a huge racket when he decided to practice inside the house.

Jackson and Bambam would watch variety shows with pop idols together, and Bambam always tried his very best to copy the dance steps. Jackson had also bought him that CD player he’d been thinking about getting, as well as several CDs. Jackson regretted not buying more, since the player was in use whenever Bambam wasn’t in the yard, and those same songs were quickly getting tiring.

Still, Jackson was glad it made his friend so happy. Bambam had never been given the freedom to move around or be loud before, and it seemed like he was determined to make up for lost time. 

As if on cue, he heard Bambam shout out the lyrics to Female President from the backyard. Jackson had a small balcony connected to his bedroom, and he’d opened the sliding door so he could keep an ear out for his friend.

He strode over to the door, stepping onto the balcony to watch Bambam. He was jumping up and down, trying to sing while moving his arms and shaking his tail. It was a poor imitation for Girl’s Day, but it made Jackson smile all the same.

“Bam!” Jackson yelled to get his attention. Bambam stopped abruptly, looking back up at the older boy. He smiled wide before waving enthusiastically. 

“Jackson-hyung! Did you see my dance? I’m getting better, right? I think I look just like Minah!” Jackson nodded and gave the younger a thumbs-up, but thought in his head that Bambam looked and sounded about as far away from the main vocalist of Girl’s Day as he could get.

“It looks great, Bam. But you need to come inside and get ready. The party’s soon.” Bambam frowned, swishing his tail as he put a hand on his bony hip.

“But I need to practice more. If I want to be better than Minah, I have to work on it. It’s very, very important.” Jackson was used to what Bambam considered important by now. It usually was something Jackson wouldn’t really think about in the first place.

Yesterday, it was important that the cookies be in the oven for exactly eight minutes and twenty seconds. Bambam stood with a stopwatch to make sure he wasn’t even a second off. 

Three days ago, it was important that Bambam and Jackson both sing a specific girl’s Generation song four times. No more, no less. 

It was also important for all of Bambam’s new things to be kept an exact way, but the rules changed way too often for Jackson to possibly keep track. Bambam’s shoes were a particularly frustrating example. 

Sometimes, the rule was all his shoes needed to be under the bed, organized by color. Sometimes the shoes had to line the bottom of his closet. 

A week ago, the shoes had lined the hallway instead. That was one rule Jackson had insisted Bambam move on from, after he’d tripped on a particular pair of pink sneakers one too many times.

But Jackson also realized these little things really were important to Bambam, and he had no desire to change that about the younger. It was never really harmful, and when it was a bit inconvenient, all Jackson needed to do was let Bambam know, and he was quick to adapt so far.

So instead of being annoyed, Jackson nodded his head in agreement.

“Yes, I can see how important it is. You do need to get ready, though, so come inside after you practice one more time, okay? And then we can practice more tomorrow.” Bambam smiled at that, seemingly satisfied with the compromise.

“Okay, thanks hyung!” Bambam then started the song over in his head, humming the introduction out loud. The look of concentration on his round face made want to Jackson giggle, but he bit his lip to prevent himself from actually laughing.

He turned to go back inside and focus on finishing up getting ready. If he kept looking at Bambam, he’d laugh for sure, and he didn’t want the younger to think he was making fun of him. 

The thing was, Bambam’s hearing was good, really good, and Jackson knew the tiniest giggle had a risk of being picked up by his sensitive ears. Bambam had explained a lot about hybrids at the shopping mall that day, after they’d already been shopping for a few hours and Bambam was more at ease.

“We can hear better, and see better. We see mostly the way humans do, in full color and all that, even dog hybrids.” At that, Bambam stopped to lick the vanilla ice cream that was beginning to drip off the edge of the cone. “But we also can see better in the dark. Well, cats at least. Honestly, I don’t know all the details about dogs. The other hybrids in my breeding facility were all cats, it was a cat-focused center. But yeah, we can see and hear better. We can smell a bit better. We can jump higher, and we’re more agile. We don’t run out of energy easily. We have all these good traits on purpose, you know.” 

At Jackson’s confused expression, Bambam shrugged, licking his cone again before continuing. “We’re bred specifically to keep the good parts of being a cat and the good parts of being a human. And we’re bred for what looks nice, too. That’s why we just have the ears and tail, I mean. We don’t have the rough tongue or the whisker or anything like that on purpose. We look better this way.” 

Bambam had said that last sentence with an air of finality, and Jackson knew he didn’t really want to say anything else. Sure enough, the younger boy got up from the bench they’d been sitting on and starting gathering their bags. They’d already made two trips to the car to unload their arms. Jackson was buying a lot, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He had money to burn and a cute kid to spoil rotten. 

Now, Jackson fumbled with his tie, struggling to form a proper knot. He heard Bambam barge in from outside, even without the ability of a hybrid. Bambam occasionally was very quiet, and when he didn’t want to make a sound, it was impossible to hear him. Most of the time, he sang or skipped or did something that made a lot of noise, which Jackson was frankly thankful for. He was a bit skittish and appreciated knowing when someone was coming. 

Sometimes he thought Bambam did it on purpose, but Jackson was nervous to ask, so he just let it be. Jackson didn’t want to seem like a scaredy cat that Bambam purposefully accommodated; he did still have some pride to keep.

Bambam ran quickly up the stairs, dashing into Jackson’s room and slamming down onto the large bed, facing the mirror Jackson was in front of. He sat on the edge for only a moment before springing back up, gently swatting Jackson’s hands away from the black tie.

“This doesn’t match your shirt. It’s too dark. And you’re tying it backwards.” Jackson frowned, ready to object.

“But my suit jacket is black, the tie matches that.” Bambam crinkled his nose, not placated by the new information. 

“No, that won’t work either. That just… It won’t look good.” Jackson knew he wasn’t really the most fashionable guy, but he still felt the need to defend himself. Before he could do so, Bambam was over at his closet, pulling down the speciality hanger that held over a dozen neck ties. 

“Well, none of these are perfect. But your shirt is so pale that it’s almost white, I feel like the tie shouldn’t be so dark. Maybe something like…” He trailed off, but grabbed a medium blue and slate grey striped tie. The diagonal stripes were separated by very thin white lines. 

Bambam held it up to Jackson’s neck and nodded, pleased. He went back to the closet and started sifting through Jackson’s wardrobe.

Jackson was actually a bit fascinated. Bambam himself never seemed to wear particularly well-matched clothing. He recalled one especially memorable choice of bright green pants with a hot pink polo. He’d looked more watermelon than cat, and Jackson had struggled not to grin every time he saw him for the entire day. 

Bambam pulled out one of Jackson’s three party suits, the dark grey colored one, and nodded again, handing it back to Jackson before sitting back down on the side of the mattress.

“That will look better, I think. Say, have you ever thought about going blonde? I bet it’d look good with your complexion. And it would make your eyes stand out. They’re such a nice color, and their so big and round. Like a bowl of chocolate pudding.” 

Jackson knew chocolate pudding was a big compliment in Bambam’s eyes, so he couldn’t help but smile a bit at the honor. Still, he swatted at the younger.

“Yah, you little brat! How would I stay dark and mysterious if my hair was yellow? That’s crazy, not sexy!” Bambam smiled at his teasing words, that cute little smile where Jackson could see his pink tongue behind his pointed teeth.

“I’m just saying! Yellow can be sexy, too.” He stood back up, shrugging his shoulders as he walked over to Jackson, taking the tie from his clumsy hands.

“Here, let me.” He murmured, already focused on the task at hand. His thin fingers worked magic, and Jackson never ceased to be impressed with Bambam’s abilities.

Hybrids, as Jackson found out, were trained in a lot of things, all in the interest of meeting the needs for their future masters. Bambam had explained that there should be a list of all the skills he was trained in somewhere in the stack of paperwork Jackson received the night he brought the younger home.

Jackson hadn’t looked though. He decided he’d rather find out about Bambam on his own time, instead of through some sort of master-list cheatsheet. 

So far, Jackson had observed that Bambam was good at cooking and baking, as well as most household chores. He could sew, as Jackson had found out when he complained about a rip in his favorite hoodie. When Jackson pulled his shoulder after a workout, Bambam had effortless massaged out the pain. Bambam had already explained why he’d been trained in math and had basic reading skills. 

Apparently, his skills also included fashion knowledge and tying a neck tie.

After he was finished, Bambam stepped back, nodding his approval at his choice. 

“That’s a lot better, and the grey suit will finish off the look. I need to change, but I’ll be back soon. We leave at 7:30, right?” Jackson nodded, checking out his new look in the mirror. 

He had to admit, Bambam’s choice did look better. 

Bambam laughed triumphantly at Jackson’s pleased expression. Jackson was about to turn on the younger and tease him back, ready to deny how much he actually liked how he looked. But Bambam was already out the door, and Jackson heard the door next door to his slam shut only a moment later.

Jackson sighed as he moved to take off his black pants. That kid was just too fast for his own goddamn good. 

~~~

Bambam had picked out a lot of clothes, after he got over his initial hangups about spending too much of Jackson’s money. That was why Jackson had no real idea about what Bambam was going to look like. He’d told the younger it was a suit-and-tie kind of affair, but he wasn’t about to pick out the hybrid’s clothes for him.

Jackson sighed as he tried not to fidget too much. He didn’t really like wearing these kind of clothes. He didn’t mind the way they looked, but he was used to wearing baggy, stretchy clothes. Clothes that didn't feel like they’d rip if he got in some push-ups before they left. 

Despite his dislike of the whole affair, parties were something he just couldn’t avoid altogether. His aunt had left him a number of businesses that provided his income, and maintaining good relations was a necessity. That much had been written clearly in his Aunt Sophia’s final note to him, as she lay on her death bed. Unfortunately, Jackson hadn’t been able to get to her side fast enough to see her in person, but at least she’d been strong enough to write him a detailed letter.

She’d actually written pages and pages, the letter was more like a small book than a simple note. 

She’d used her last hours to tell him everything. And then she’d left him all she’d built, her life’s work.

His aunt was as clever as she was kind, and had invested her own inheritance into numerous ventures. It was what made her wealthier than the rest of the family, even though they were far from poor themselves. 

Thinking about his aunt still made him gloomy. If only she’d been able to tell him sooner, if only she hadn’t hidden how sick she was, if only Jackson had been able spend his time with the only family who cared about him.

Jackson took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He never should have started thinking, if he didn’t think there wouldn’t be any problems. Thinking too much would only serve to make him sad. 

He heard Bambam jumping down the stairs and felt a rush of gratitude towards the younger. Actually, he did have someone who cared. He wasn’t alone anymore. 

He turned to face his friend, raising his arms to reach out for a hug before he had time to even think about it. But instead of the smile he tried to give, his mouth dropped open in slight shock.

Bambam was cute, he was always cute. He was cute in his oversized pajamas, he was cute in those fluffy sweaters he favored (he always seemed to be cold). He was even cute in that hilarious watermelon outfit. 

But now, Bambam looked almost like a different person. Jackson was staring, but he didn’t have time to stare long, as Bambam jumped into his arms, hugging him back. Jackson momentarily forgot he’d raised his arms for a hug in the first place, but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around the little cat-boy. 

When Bambam withdrew a step, hands still resting on Jackson’s shoulders, Jackson could see his face pretty closely. He’d lined his eyes with thin, but noticeable, dark liner. The pink fringe that Jackson loved to playfully ruffle was now pushed back, mixed with his dark hair and styled so it was barely noticeable at all. His suit was true black, a thin sort of material that tapered to follow the thin lines of Bambam’s body. 

He looked a bit grown-up, and that was what was so shocking. 

They’d only known each other for two weeks, but in those days they’d spent every waking hour (and a few napping ones) together. Jackson felt like he knew Bambam better than he’d known anyone in a very long time. So really, it was a bit unsettling to see such a new and unexpected side of Bambam.

“Do I look alright, Jackson-hyung?” Bambam broke his train of thought and Jackson stepped back a bit more, a bit embarrassed that he’d spaced out staring at the hybrid. But it was also comforting to hear that sweet, high-pitched voice.

Bambam was still Bambam, the cute boy who spent hours each day on the swings in the backyard, the boy who squeaked out girl-group songs while pouring milk on his sugary cereal. Hearing his voice just reassured Jackson of that fact, putting him back at ease.

So he smiled brightly and nodded at the younger. “You look good, Bam. Not as good as ‘Wang Sexy’, of course. But good.” Bambam’s lip jutted into a pout at that. Jackson wanted him to smile, though. So he dived forward and tickled that spot on Bambam’s side that always elicited involuntary laughter. Sure enough, Bambam laughed despite himself, swatting at Jackson to stop.

The whole ride to the party was spent arguing over who looked better. Bambam finally won by pointing out that he was the one who picked Jackson’s outfit in the first place. So clearly, even if Jackson looked better, which he totally didn’t, Bambam had to be the winner.

Jackson pretended to be upset when he admitted defeat, but he wouldn’t have let the argument end any other way.

~~~

Jackson laced his arm with Bambam’s as they stepped out of the car. The party had a valet, of course.

Jackson still kind of hated handing over the keys of his car, but it was necessary in this kind of environment. He’d found out that fighting to park the car yourself only ended up in pointless arguments that he’d never win. 

Bambam bounced happily as he walked, but calmed down as soon as they walked through the open front door. The pair were immediately greeted by the host, a not-quite-middle aged man who Jackson knew wanted to strike some sort of deal.

Jackson had someone he hired to take care of basically everything. He knew he should probably pay more attention to the business side of life, but he knew nothing about it and had no desire at all to learn. Instead, he trusted a sharp woman who’d worked with his aunt before she died. Min-noona actually enjoyed handing everything behind the scenes, so Jackson didn’t feel too bad about it. And besides, her salary was no joke.

Of course, this man had no idea how little Jackson had to do with his own business, so he was making his best efforts to garner favor, quickly complimenting both Jackson and Bambam.

Bambam, for his part, adjusted quickly to the social setting. He somehow sensed that Jackson didn’t have much to say, so he filled in the gaps with his own small talk. Jackson passingly stroked Bambam’s wrist where their arms were still interlaced, feeling incredibly fond of his friend as he zoned out to the sound of his voice. 

The boring business guy must have caught on that Jackson wasn’t paying him all that much attention, because he frowned and called over his own hybrid. Jackson was busy thinking about how this guy’s frown made his face look so sour, when Bambam’s just looked cute. The difference was actually puzzling to Jackson, so his full concentration was now staring back and forth between both the host’s and Bambam’s faces, trying to puzzle out what it was that made them look so drastically different.

There was a real reason Jackson wasn’t good with parties, and a lot of it was because of moments like this. Jackson would always remember his nights later and cringe at how he’d dealt with people. 

But now wasn’t later, and now there was a pressing issue for Jackson to devote his full attention to.

He would’ve kept thinking about it, too, if he wasn’t pulled out of his thoughts by what the man had said.

“Jimin, why don’t you take Mr. Wang’s lovely hybrid to the designated area, so he can chat with the others of his kind, hm?” The host directed his words at a dog-boy, who was apparently his own hybrid. Jackson immediately latched onto Bambam’s arm, ready to object to any kind of separation. 

“What are you even saying? Designated area? What even is that?” The host smiled, the kind of smile that was anything but warm and fuzzy. It was strained, and Jackson really wished he remembered the guy’s name just so he could use it in his argument.

“The area for hybrids, of course. You didn’t think a party this size would be unprepared for guests bringing along their pets, right?” Pets? Jackson didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“No, absolutely not. Bam stays with me.” Bambam turned to Jackson, wrapping a thin arm around the older boy’s waist before leaning up to his ear. Jackson shifted to face him a bit more easily, wanting to listen to whatever his friend had to say.

“Jackson-hyung. It’s fine, I’ll be alright and so will you. It’s to be expected, really. And besides, I’ll get to meet some other hybrids. Won’t that be nice?” Jackson still frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. No, this certainly wasn’t “to be expected”. But Bambam’s voice was so sweet and if he did want to meet other hybrids, it was actually a good chance. 

“Is that what you want, Bam? To meet them?” Bambam nodded, fingers lightly stroking where his hand still rested on Jackson’s side. Jackson turned his head back to the host, eyeing him up and down, still visibly unhappy. The man looked a tad concerned now, probably worried he’d offended Jackson too much to do business with him. 

His concern was just fine in Jackson’s book. This guy’d just for all intents and purposes called Bambam his pet, and he wanted to see him squirm. So he scowled at him for a long moment, holding his gaze with a tense stare. Bambam still stroked Jackson’s side comfortingly though, and Jackson was finding it harder and harder to stop himself from smiling. He still wasn’t happy, but Bambam had a soothing effect that was hard to resist.

So Jackson nodded tersely, giving Bambam a quick side hug before speaking again.

“Okay, but if anything happens to my Bambam, you don’t even want to know what I’ll do to you and every little thing you care about. Are we clear?” Jackson’s words themselves weren’t all that intimidating, but his tone and hard stare were more than enough to have the man shifting nervously.

“Message received, loud and clear. Jimin is well-trained, I’m sure he can keep an eye on your little cat?” He questioned the dog-hybrid without breaking eye contact with Jackson, but the hybrid scrambled to follow the indirect command. 

“Of course, Master Jeong! Right this way, please.” Jackson flinched a bit both at the use of the word “master” and the way the other hybrid put his hand on Bambam’s shoulder as he led him away. It took every bit of his willpower not to run after them, but he realized he couldn’t exactly stop them now.

~~~

The rest of the party was miserable for Jackson. He looked at his silver wrist-watch more often than was polite, and he had to strain not to grimace whenever he was approached by fellow party-goers.

The conversation with the actual host, Jeong, he now knew, had tapered off pretty quickly. Jeong had been unable to stave off the awkward tension he’d accidentally created, and soon had to excuse himself to talk to other guests without making any real progress with Jackson.

Before the night started, Jackson had no opinion either way of doing business with Jeong. Now he was pretty bitter, and was considering calling Min to tell her to cut any ties with Jeong that already existed. 

Jackson meandered back over to the snack bar, pulling more fancy cheese off the shiny gold platter. He’d never been able to resist cheese. He laughed silently to himself when he thought about how Bambam would scold him if he was here, saying all that cheese was what caused Jackson to have to take digestive medicine just to properly function.

He was probably right, but life was short and cheese was delicious.

His smile dropped when he thought about how much happier he’d be if Bambam was with him. Jackson glanced back down at his watch and was relieved to see the time.

It had been an hour and a half since he left Bambam. More than enough time, in Jackson’s mind. But even by party standards, it wasn’t exactly unacceptable. He could finally get his friend back by his side and get the hell out of dodge. 

It occurred to Jackson that he actually wasn’t sure exactly where the hybrids were. He looked around for an member of the staff, and was led to the area right away when he asked for help.

The area was downstairs, more like a basement level, and didn’t seem all that inviting. Jackson wrinkled his nose at the stale smell and was met with a quick apology.

“Sorry about that, sir. You know how hybrids can get, but it’s not like they can help the way they smell you know?” That only confused Jackson, because Bambam always smelled really nice, kind of vaguely fruity and always pleasant. He was just about to say as much when the man opened a door, and he was standing in a doorway of a room full of hybrids.

The room was large, but not quite large enough. There were couches, tables, and chairs; and it seemed like every available space was occupied. Jackson’s eyes darted around as he tried to locate his own hybrid in the cramped crowd. 

A lot of them had stopped talked when they’d noticed his entrance, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t intimidating. He still hadn’t spent much time with hybrids that weren’t Bambam, and he was having far too much trouble finding that one.

He needed Bambam. Right that instant. He felt his heart pound as he looked desperately around the room. 

He didn’t have to worry for long, though. Only a moment later, Bambam was standing in front of him.

“Jackson-hyung! How was the party?” Jackson’s relief made his body sag down as the tension left his shoulders. He’d been on the brink of panic, so he didn’t hold back the impulse to scoop Bambam into an embrace.

“It was fucking awful. I missed you so much. Everyone else fucking sucks.” Bambam pulled back a bit at that, but his hands were still touching the back of Jackson’s neck and that alone was comforting.

“Hyung! You shouldn’t say things like that!” It should’ve been scolding, but Bambam’s soft smile said otherwise.

“I’ll say what I want, because it’s true. I don’t like them, any of them. Next time someone tries to take you away I’ll fucking fight them.” Bambam clicked his tongue in apparent disapproval, but he was still grinning up at the older.

“Language, hmm?” Jackson scoffed.

` “Yeah, yeah. I’ll blooming fight them. Is that better? Wait, I’ll answer that for you. It’s not. It sounds goddamn stupid.” Now, Jackson was doing it on purpose. But it made Bambam giggle and that was the best sound he’d heard all night, so he couldn’t find it in him to care what the people around him might think.

Actually, that thought did make him glance around. Most everyone was staring at them, some wide-eyed and slack-jawed and some more clearly confused. He suddenly felt hyper aware of his hands on Bambam’s waist, and the younger boy’s hands resting on his own shoulders.

He still didn’t know all that much about hybrids, but he knew his friendship with Bambam was unusual. From what he could see, humans thought of them as beneath themselves, but that sickened Jackson more than anything.

For that reason, he snaked his arm around Bambam’s waist even as he turned to leave. He wanted to show the others how close they were, he wanted them to somehow know that not all humans sucked. Even if most did. 

He hoped they’d get to experience that side of humanity firsthand. He actually felt guilty as they stepped into the hallway, realizing he might just be teasing them with something they’d never be able to have. Something that was really just the basic kindness everyone deserved.

His heart ached for them, but he couldn’t help them all. He had Bambam, and he was more than enough to handle. 

~~~

Bambam was being quiet. Too quiet.

It was irritating Jackson. He had gotten used to Bambam bantering back and forth whenever they talked. And he’d already had a boring enough night. Business discussions and small talk were incredibly frustrating. 

This particular conversation wasn’t much better, even though it was with the one person he actually really liked. The issue was that it was very one-sided. 

Jackson had complained about the party all the way up the stairs. He stopped when they were back in the main space for party guests, but started again the second they stepped outside. He rambled while they waited for the valet, and he continued on the drive home.

Jackson had fully expected Bambam to jump in with his own commentary. Bambam always knew just what to say to break the mood and make his friend laugh.

But he hadn’t really said more than one word at a time since they’d left the room full of hybrids, and it was driving Jackson absolutely crazy. 

Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to ask, and a stoplight yielded the perfect opportunity. 

“Bambam, is something wrong? I feel like I’m talking to myself here.” The younger jumped a bit when he noticed Jackson’s eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry, hyung. What did you just say?” Jackson sighed before he could stop himself and Bambam winced a bit at Jackson’s apparent disappointment, ears going flat and body stiffening.

“Bam, you’re just not quite here with me right now. What’s going on? Your mind is a million miles away.” The stoplight changed, and Jackson had to shift his eyes away. He turned his gaze, but took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on Bambam’s knee, trying to offer some comfort. It seemed to do the trick, since Bambam relaxed a bit in his seat.

“I’m sorry, Jackson-hyung. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just thinking about a lot of things.” Jackson was relieved he’d made some progress, but he still didn’t really know what was bothering him, and that wasn’t okay. 

“Like, what kind of things?” Jackson glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and could see the hybrid biting his lower lip, a nervous habit that Jackson hadn’t really seen since he’d first brought Bambam into his home.

“Well… I was just wondering if…” Bambam trailed off again. Jackson was honestly getting annoyed, but he knew snapping at Bambam would only make things worse. Instead, he mustered out the most soothing tone he could manage, as he continued to slowly stroke Bambam’s knee.

“Wondering if?” Bambam was still hesitating, so Jackson continued. “It’s okay, Bam. You can tell me anything. I’m not going to get upset with you. Your problems are my problems, okay?” Bambam gave a slight smile, and Jackson smiled back. 

“Well, hyung… Just as a hypothetical question, just as a pretend make-believe situation. Say there’s a hybrid that may or may not be in serious trouble and he needs some help and I think maybe we as a pair, or actually, you and I could help and it’s just a possible idea but maybe we could? Help, I mean?” Bambam’s words came out way too fast to process, and Jackson was confident they didn’t make all that much sense in the first place.

“Bam, what exactly are you on about? Just, just one sentence. In a clear voice. Please.” Bambam looked nervous again, but he opened his mouth to speak much more quickly this time around.

“Do you think we could take in another hybrid?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! Please give me some feedback/commentary if you have time. I really want to know if you all like what's going on so far.
> 
> Also, we're finally talking about adding onto the household! For Jackson and Bambam, it's not all that long, but I've wanted to start adding the other boys since I started~


	5. Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter deals with pretty heavy themes. To avoid spoilers, I'll add a proper trigger warning at the bottom of the page, in the author's notes.

_"Do you think we could take in another hybrid?”_

Jackson hadn’t known what he was expected Bambam to say, but it definitely wasn’t _that_.

“I mean, I know that’s like a huge thing and all, but I made a new friend while you were gone. He was so nice to me but his owner is really terrible to him. And I just thought maybe you’d want to help..” Bambam was rambling just a bit, but Jackson didn’t mind. It gave him enough time to try and collect his own thoughts. 

“Bam, what’s actually going on? Like, how exactly is he terrible? I don’t mean to doubt you or anything but from what I’ve seen everybody’s a total ass to their hybrids. But we can’t help everybody, no matter how much I want to.” Bambam bit his lip, hard. Jackson’s hand was still on the younger’s knee, and he gave it a squeeze to try and calm him down. They were pulling into the driveway now, and Jackson was never so thankful to see his front door. This wasn’t really a conversation he wanted to have while driving. 

Bambam didn’t respond as they got out of the car. His cheeks were flushed so pink that Jackson could clearly see the color, even in the dim light of his driveway at night. Jackson slung an arm around Bambam’s shoulder while he dug into his suit pocket with his other hand, fumbling for his house key.

They walked into the house in silence. Jackson was starting to feel nervous. It must be really serious if Bambam was having so much trouble saying it.

“Bam, do you need a few minutes? I really want you to tell me what’s going on, but I won’t force you.” The hybrid offered a nervous smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but still nodded his head.

“I can tell you, hyung. I’m just a bit… I don’t know how exactly to say this.” Jackson nodded in understanding.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and start getting comfortable first? Then you can say when you’re ready.” Bambam smiled softly, a bit less anxiously this time. He intertwined his finger’s with Jackson’s as they climbed the stairs, pulling him along. Bambam led them into Jackson’s room and sat down on the side of the bed, shrugging off his suit jacket.

Jackson pulled his suit off quickly, eager to be rid of the restrictive garments. He reached into his drawer, pulling out sweatpants and a t-shirt before he started unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Er… Hyung?” Jackson turned to face Bambam, hands still on the buttons. The cat-boy was blushing, looked shyly away. Jackson didn’t hold back on his impulse to step forwards at run his hand through his friend’s hair, scratching at his dark ears. Bambam leaned up into the touch, fluttering his eyes closed as he slowly breathed in and out.

“Yes, Bambam? What’d you need?” Bambam’s eyes snapped open and his cheeks flushed again, but he did look determined to say what he wanted to say. Jackson waited with bated breath, anxious to hear all about Bambam’s night.

“Can I borrow one of your shirts? To sleep in, I mean. I understand if you don’t want to but I just kind of want it, if that’s maybe okay?” Jackson’s hand froze in Bambam’s hair. He was completely thrown off, but he didn’t exactly mind. So he walked back over to his dresser, rummaging around until he found his longest, softest night shirt and tossed it to Bambam. Bambam offered him a toothy grin and Jackson smiled back before turning to face his mirror so he could finish with all the little buttons on his shirt.

He didn’t really get why Bambam wanted his shirt, or why he seemed so nervous asking for it, but he wasn’t going to question him about it now. His curiosity was more focused on finding out what was going on with that other hybrid. Jackson was so worried that he found it impossible to really think about anything else.

By time he’d changed, Bambam was already finished changing, even though he’d started second. His suit was hanging neatly off the headboard of the bed, dress shirt folded meticulously on the pillow. A hybrid’s speed was no joke.

Jackson walked over to the bed, sitting against the high headboard. He opened his arm, extending a silent offer for Bambam to snuggle up against his side. The younger jumped to do so, knocking Jackson’s breath out of his lungs. Bambam nestled into his side, casually grabbing a fist of Jackson’s shirt and twisting it in his fingers before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“The hybrid, he’s a cat-hybrid too. His name is Mark. He’s really nice. I felt really nervous and lost in the crowd, and I couldn’t find anywhere to sit. But he stood up and brought me over to a recliner, and he shared the chair with me. He was worried about me. Because I’m so young, you know. You know I’m pretty young to have an owner, right? I know you don’t know much about hybrids.”

“Aren’t hybrids usually sold when they’re at least eighteen? I noticed you seemed young.” Bambam nodded before responding.

“At least that old. More commonly they’re nineteen or twenty. Where I’m from, it’s illegal to sell hybrids before they’re nineteen. That’s why I’m in Korea in the first place.” Jackson was shocked, he’d always assumed Bambam was born in Korea; Bambam had never said anything to suggest differently. 

“You’re not Korean? Your Korean is so good! Why didn’t you say you weren’t Korean.” Bambam also looked surprised at Jackson’s response.

“You didn’t know? It should be on my papers. I starting learning Korean three years ago, when my sales theme was decided on. My Korean isn’t really that good, maybe because you’re also a foreigner it sounds better than it is? But I’m from Thailand. Bangkok. ” Jackson furrowed his brows, mulling over the new information. 

“I never even looked at your papers, Bam. I just never felt like I needed to. I’d rather get to know you naturally, you know? Without some sort of cheat-sheet. People shouldn’t come with instruction manuals, you should learn about people by talking to them. And I want to know everything about you, but on my own time. Does that make sense?” The cat-boy nodded, now looking wide-eyed at his friend. The raw affection on his face was almost overwhelming to Jackson, but he hoped his expression reflected his own fondness for Bambam, so he’d know just how much he cared.

“Th-thank you, Jackson-hyung. for everything. For treating me so well and being so kind. I know you tell me not to thank you for that but I really want you to know how much I appreciate it.” Jackson nodded, moving his hand from its place on Bambam’s shoulder to his neck, lightly brushing the wispy hairs there.

“Bam, I could say the same to you. Having you with me is just great, and I’m so happy you’re here.” The two looked at each other for a moment, smiling peacefully. The moment was fuzzy and warm in a way Jackson couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t feel much of a need to describe it either. It was what it was.

Bambam finally tore his eyes away, picking at the end of his shirt. His tail starting swishing around as he worked over what to say.

“I… I talked to Mark for a long time. He was worried about me because I’m young and he wanted to know about you. Like, how you treated me, I mean. That’s how we started talking. He was worried because I’m not an adult but er… You know, most owners… With hybrids, they…” Bambam paused for a second, clearly not knowing what to say. “I don’t know what it’s called. the thing hybrids are supposed to do. They never told us what it’s called, if it even has a name.” Jackson was really confused, trying to guess what Bambam could mean. It was incredibly vague.

“Can you like, describe it?” Bambam looked down a bit, a troubled expression on his face.

“It’s not easy to describe. I don’t know if humans do it too. Like, with other humans. So I don’t know if you’ll recognize it or think I’m crazy.” Jackson shook his head a bit too hard.

“I might not know, if it’s some secret hybrid thing. But I won’t think you’re crazy, never. Never, ever.” Bambam looked a bit reassured, smiling a bit before continuing.

“Okay. I was trained how to do it but I haven’t actually done it before. Most hybrids don’t do it until they’re bought because the owners like it better when we haven’t done it yet. I’m not actually sure why. But it’s like, it’s different for men and women. For both the hybrid and the human. But me and Mark are guys, and his master is a guy too. So Mark has to be the one to take it inside. His owner, I mean. His owner’s the one who puts his thing inside Mark.” Jackson was still confused at first, until it hit him. And it hit him hard. 

“Wh-What?! Mark does what?!” Bambam furrowed his brows, ears flattened at Jackson’s loud reaction.

“He has to put the, I don’t know what it’s called. This.” At that, Bambam gestured towards his own crotch. “This part. It’s supposed to make the master feel good, when he sticks it inside under our tails. There’s a spot there where he’s supposed to do it.” Jackson felt ill, violently ill. This beautiful, sweet boy- this tiny, sixteen year old boy- was trying to explain how sex worked. Was saying it was something hybrids did, was saying it was something he was trained-

“Wait, they fucking trained you for that? What the fuck?! What the fuck did they do to you?!” Bambam looked genuinely perplexed at Jackson, but his face turned to terrified a second later.

“I… They didn’t put anything in me! I’m still good! Don’t be mad, please!” Jackson still felt like he was going to throw up, but it wasn’t Bambam’s fault. Not at all. He leaned forward and scooped the now-shaking hybrid into his arms. 

“Bam, baby, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at them. You shouldn’t have to do that. No one should.” Bambam’s trembling calmed down as Jackson held him, sitting in silence for a minute.

“Is it that bad, hyung? I didn’t realize it was that bad. I never… I was nervous to start doing it because they told us it might hurt, that’s why I never said anything. When I first got here, I was surprised that you didn’t do it. I really liked you and I thought it wouldn’t be so bad if you did it. That first night, I tried to offer it but you didn’t do anything and then I realized you didn’t know much about hybrids and I thought you might not know so I didn't want to tell you because it’s scary. The things we practiced on were so big and the hole under our tails is so small.” Jackson didn’t respond at first, trying to find an easy way to explain it.

“I didn’t even realize you tried to offer anything, Bam.” He had more to say, but Bambam interrupted him.

“I did! I said you could do anything you wanted to me!” Jackson winced a bit, trying to remember but feeling bad that the younger had said it at all.

“I didn’t realize that’s what you were getting at. But you don’t have to do that. I mean, if you find someone you care about who you want to do that with, you can. Sure, you can. It’s not a bad thing. Between two people who want to do it with each other, it’s a great thing. But, you’re pretty young for that stuff anyway…” Jackson trailed off as another sick thought hit him. It was too awful to think about, but it was also too awful to keep in his own head. There was no way he could stop himself from blurting it out.

“Is that why you’re in Korea?! So some sicko can just, can just buy a kid for this shit?!” Bambam shrugged his shoulders stiffly.

“I guess? It’s my sales theme. i’m supposed to be cute. Most hybrids have some sort of theme. Like, some themes are pretty, mysterious, approachable… Mine is cute. I guess age is part of that, right? They decided on it when I was thirteen because most hybrids start growing a lot at that age but I stayed small.” 

Jackson could actually taste acid burning in his throat. He felt like crawling over to a toilet and puking his guts out. But he swallowed roughly, holding himself back. Bambam needed him to be calm, and there was also that other hybrid. Mark.

Jackson still hadn’t heard the whole story about Mark, but if he was being used as some sort of live sex-toy, that was already enough to warrant an intervention.

But apparently, that wasn’t even uncommon. Bambam had been fucking trained for it. Jackson’s stomach turned violently as he pictured Bambam, being bent over while someone barked orders at him.

“Bam, what exactly do you mean by trained? I won’t be angry at you, but I think you should tell me.” He almost didn’t want to know, but he knew he’d just worry about the unknown aspects of it even more.

“Well, we practiced on these plastic things. They’re supposed to look like the things on humans. We put them in our mouths and use our hands and stuff, and the trainers tell us how we should do it to make our masters feel good.” The mental picture was still extremely disturbing, but Jackson was somewhat relieved to know Bambam hadn’t been forced to do anything for his trainers, or any other actual people.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me…” The two paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. Jackson decides to break the silence by trying to find out more about Mark. 

“Mark… This hybrid you talked to? Is doing that for his owner why he’s in trouble? ” Bambam shook his head no before stopping and nodding yes, uncertainty clear on his face. 

“Kind of? It isn’t that he does it for his master. Most hybrids do. It’s just the way he does it. He hurts Mark. A lot.” That didn’t sound good. In fact, it sounded downright revolting. But he had to know. If he was going to help Mark, he had to know. 

“What do you mean, exactly?” Bambam worried over his plump, now throughly-bitten, lip before answering. 

“He doesn’t prepare him first. You’re supposed to do stuff first, so it fits inside. Do you know about that?” Jackson nods. He’s no expert by any means, but he does know that some preparation goes into anal sex. “Well, he doesn’t do that. And he does it too hard. Mark bleeds a lot. He had to wear some kind of spongy pad thing in his underwear all the time, because his master want to do it a lot, and it stains his clothes after. He was telling me about it because he was worried you’d do it to me. He said he was used to it, but he wanted to make sure I was handled more gently. He couldn’t believe it when I said you never did anything at all.” Jackson felt rage flood his body like never before, but it wasn’t even over yet.

“Mark said that he was still worried because at first his owner acted nice and was careful with him, but over time he ended up not worrying about hurting Mark.” Bambam looked down, wringing his hands together before speaking again. “Actually, I got the feeling he hurts Mark on purpose. He didn’t tell me that, he didn’t want to talk about it all that much. But I just have that gut feeling…”

Jackson was always disgusted at how humans treated hybrids, but this took the prize. Easily. Jackson had never been more angry, more revolted by his own species. And he’d dealt with more than his fair share of shitty humans.

If Bambam was half as good at reading this new friend as he was at reading Jackson, he had to be correct about his hunch. Jackson sprang up, grabbing at the edge of his dresser to try and stop himself from throwing something. 

He wanted to hear something smash, wanted to see it break. But Bambam was here and he told him a lot, talked about things that had to be scary to talk about. Jackson had to keep it together. His knuckles went white, and he stared at the color draining out before speaking to the younger, still not looking back at his face.

“Bambam, do you know who Mark’s owner is?” 

“Yeah, I do. I have a business card! Mark gave it to me in case I got into trouble, he said to run over there and try to find him.” Bambam jumped off the bed and bounded over to Jackson, suit pants in hand. He rummaged through the pocket before offering it to his friend. Jackson accepted it, looking over at it.

Kim Yo-han. CEO of a small company Jackson had heard of in passing. Not all that important. 

Kim Yo-han would be dead, if Jackson had his way. But he didn’t have that right, and he knew that. He still was absolutely furious as he dialed the number, but tried to breathe smoothly. 

Bambam seemed to sense his feelings, as he always did. So he leaned his head against Jackson’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his torso. Jackson unlatched his free hand from the dresser to pull Bambam into a tight side-embrace.

Kim Yo-han answered on the third ring. 

“Kim Yo-han of Seven Sails, Incorporated. How may I assist you?” The voice was pleasant and cheery, and Jackson shuddered at the sound.

Not all monsters sounded like what they truly were. He barely managed to swallow his own saliva past the lump in his throat before responding. 

“Yeah, I’m Wang Jackson. Wang Business Family, you probably know.” He could actually hear Kim Yo-han choke, maybe on a drink or on his own spit. Jackson wished he’d keep choking and drop dead.

“Of course! Of course I know! It’s an honor to speak with you, sir. I’m sure my comp-“ Jackson quickly grew impatient, cutting him off before he launched into his business spiel.

“Cut the shit, dude. I’m not in the mood. I’ll just be upfront, here. I want your cat.” Kim Yo-han spluttered again, and Jackson again wished he’d just die. If he choked this often, maybe it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch…

“Excuse me? My cat?” Jackson sighed. Kim Yo-han seemed as stupid as he was cruel. It wasn’t like what he’d said could have been interpreted more than one way, and Jackson never had patience for people who didn’t listen well. 

“Yeah, Mark. I met him at the party, when I went to get mine. I want him. I’ll pay, of course.” The meeting part was a lie, but Jackson figured he didn’t owe this guy the truth. 

Besides, he raped a hybrid on the daily. He might be twisted enough to not part with Mark just for spite, if he knew Jackson was going to be nice to him. He had to be careful, at least until Mark was legally away from this bastard. 

“Um… Really? How much, exactly?” Jackson didn’t really care about the money. His house and car was entirely paid for, his profits each month were great. He had more money than he’d ever actually need, and he never felt the need to spend much on himself anyway.

“I don’t know. What did you pay for him?” 

“15,000. USD. He’s an American hybrid.” Jackson did the math in his head. That wasn’t really that bad. It was less than what he’d paid for Bambam, actually.

“Ok, I’ll give you 18,000 for him. That’s more than what you paid, so it’s fair, right?” 

“18,000?! But, you do realize he’s used, right? He’s not in new condition anymore?” Jackson felt his anger rise again, bubbling hotly to the surface.

“I don’t give a shit about that. And I don’t like you insulting my new cat, either. Saying he’s fucking used, like he’s a goddamn car.” 

“Ah! I didn’t mean to offend you, I mean. If you don’t like that word. I’m sorry.” Jackson’s anger still boiled him from the inside out, but Bambam’s face was still pressed against his shoulder and it was a bit soothing. Just a bit. Besides, it actually was a bit satisfying, hearing the fool stumble over himself to try and offer forgiveness.

“Well I don’t like it. Just for that, I’m knocking down my offer. 17,000. USD. Take it or leave it.” Jackson was confident the guy wouldn’t refuse him. He recognized the desperation in his tone. This guy either really needed the money or didn’t want Mark anymore in the first place. Sure enough, when Kim Yo-han spoke again it was to beg forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, so sorry. I’m just at the party still and I don’t want to say…” He trailed off, but Jackson understood. This guy had no issue with raping Mark on the regular, but he didn’t want to talk about anything sex-related in public. Hypocritical bastard.

“Whatever. I’ll give you a check tonight, but I want him brought here. Now.” 

“O-Okay! I’ll go get him!” 

“My address is 309, Park Court. I’m not a patient man.” Jackson didn’t wait for him to respond before he hung up the phone, slamming it down hard on the dresser. He heard it crack, but couldn’t be fucked to care.

Instead, Jackson grabbed at Bambam, pulling him flush against his own body and embracing him as tightly as he could. He rocked them back and forth, trying to calm his ragged breath. He felt hot tears gathering in his eyes and rubbed his tears into the younger’s shoulder, trying but failing to keep himself together. 

“Bam, I’ll never to do that to you. Okay? You never have to do anything you don’t want to do. That bastard would be fucking dead if I didn’t have you to look after. Can’t go getting arrested, now can I?” Bambam nestled into his chest, rubbing his soft cheek against Jackson’s shoulder. The movement was very feline, but somehow also very _Bambam_. Jackson sighed as he brought a shaky hand to Bambam’s round cheek, stroking the skin under his eyes lightly. 

“I know you wouldn’t do that, hyung. I was scared at first. I mean, the idea of it is scary and I was afraid you’d want it if we talked about it. But I knew I could trust you. I know I can trust you.” Jackson looked down into Bambam’s eyes, so green and pretty. He could see that trust, tangible in the emotions crossing his friend’s face. 

“Thank you, Bam. For what it’s worth, I trust you, too.” Bambam rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in mock derision, lips still curled into a small smile.

“Silly, I know you trust me. You just bought a hybrid just because I told you he needed help! If that’s not trust, I don’t know what is.” Jackson couldn’t help his shaky smile at the cat-boy’s words. He reached down for Bambam’s hand, squeezing tightly to keep himself grounded. 

“Fine, whatever. Let’s get that check ready and go wait for him downstairs.”  
~~~

Jackson paced the hallway, nervous energy bounding through his body. Bambam stood by the front door, peeking out the curtains of the small window facing the front yard. 

Jackson was torn between continuing pacing and clinging onto his friend, so he did a bit of both Pacing to Bambam, leaning his head on the younger’s back, pacing back to the end of the hall, walking back to Bam and scratching behind his pointed ears.

For his part, Bambam didn’t seem fazed at all. Jackson was grateful for that. He knew from experience that a lot of people were annoyed by pacing, but of course, Bambam understood. 

Jackson was making his way back to the younger, mind intent on nuzzling his neck, when Bambam jumped up, tail shooting straight up behind him and ears perking up.

The older boy immediately knew what the gesture meant. He lurched forward, grabbing the check and a hastily written contract off the small end table next to the doorway before swinging the door open. 

Both man and hybrid, Kim Yo-han and Mark, jumped backwards at the unexpected movement. Mark’s ears flattened and he bared his teeth, letting out a loud hiss, which only caused the man beside him to jump back farther, stumbling backwards as he almost collided with a small tree. He gave Mark a withering look before grabbing his shoulder roughly, dragging him to the doorway. Jackson’s nerves easily gave way to the hot rage that had never quite calmed down in the first place.

“Get your hands off of him! Like, now. Right fucking now.” The man looked up at Jackson, biting his own lip hard. Jackson knew the guy must be getting pissed with him by now, and he tried to calm himself down. He needed to be calm until Mark was away from this bastard for good.

“Okay, I didn’t mean to yell. I don’t want you breaking him. Come on over here.” Mark looked up, pale grey eyes so obviously angry that they almost looked more fiery than his vibrant auburn hair and matching ears. Jackson tried to offer him a smile, but Mark only scowled more, baring his sharp teeth. Jackson was about to try and reassure him when he saw Mark’s features change, anger changing to shock as he looked at something to the left of Jackson. Jackson followed Mark’s gaze only to see that something was actually a someone.

“Mark!” Bambam ran down the stairs, pulling the other cat-boy into a tight hug. Kim Yo-han looked at the pair and then looked back at Jackson, eyebrow raised. Jackson shrugged lightly, but kept his eyes trained on the pair of hybrids. Bambam was clingy like Jackson himself, but Mark was still visibly uncomfortable. He was debating whether or not to intervene when Kim Yo-han cleared his throat loudly, now visibly impatient. Jackson sighed heavily, trying to stay calm before speaking. 

“I took Bam to the party, we met him together, if that’s why you’re giving me the stink-eye. Now, can we get this over with? I’ve got the check, 17,000 USD. All you need to do is sign this.” Jackson waved his right hand, the hand that was clutching the check and the contract. The other man’s eyes followed the papers, and Jackson flinched at the sight of the raw greed on his face.

“Yes, let’s do this. Now.” Jackson handed him the contract and a pen, the bright porch light serving as illumination for Kim Yo-han to read it hastily, adding his signature while using the front door as a support. Jackson added his own to the bottom before dating the document. He took a picture with his cell phone before turning to the other man.

“Hold this, we’re taking a selfie with it. I’m not taking any chances of you saying you didn’t sign.” Kim Yo-han sighed heavily, but held the contract while Jackson clicked the camera button on his phone.

He turned away intending to beckon for Bambam, already missing his presence, but was stopped by the stares of the hybrids. Bambam smiling brightly, if way too mischievously, at him and Mark looking highly incredulous, arms crossed and pale eyes narrowed. 

He was about to pout at BamBam for what he recognized as obvious teasing, but was again distracted, this time by Kim Yo-han’s hand on his shoulder. Jackson’s stomach turned as he leapt away from the touch, feeling as if he’d been burned.

“Dude, boundaries. Don’t touch me.” The man’s satisfied smile turned to another frown before he formed a response.

“You’re a hard one, you know that? Unpredictable. Speaking of that, what makes you want my cat? I’m just going to say it since he’s your problem know. He’s a little shit. Mean as a snake and he fucking bites. And scratches. I don’t know what kind of fake charm he shot at you, but don’t believe his act for a fucking second. He may be pretty, but he’s more trouble than he’s worth. It’s nearly impossible to get him where you need him, if you catch my drift.” Jackson felt bile rise up his throat, not for the first time that night. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what the bastard meant. 

“Do you really not know why he fucking bites you? Think about it dude, think about it real fucking hard. If I was your hybrid, I’d have ripped your goddamn throat out.” Kim Yo-han went silent, apparently actually trying to think about it. Jackson had more than enough. He needed him to leave, right fucking now.

“Just, go. Go and think about it and stay the fuck away from hybrids. And anyone, really, until you get what you fucking did. Now get the fuck away from me and my friends before I do what I’ve been wanting to do all night. I’m not saying anything specific, but it might happen to involve a knife and a baseball bat…” The man visibly shrunk at that, shaking his head hard before bolting to his car, yelling something about a good riddance before slamming his door and speeding away.

The tires made an awful screeching sound, but somehow it was satisfying to hear. Jackson almost wished the sound would be enough to make his ears bleed, just to feel the sting. But then, he saw the cat-boys, hands clasped over their overly sensitive ears.

Jackson couldn’t help but wish he sped directly into a big tree on his way home. But the world they lived in never seemed to be merciful or righteous enough to allow anything of the sort. 

~~~

Mark was still extremely nervous, and Jackson wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Sure, he’d relaxed a bit when he saw Bambam earlier that night, but only by a tiny fraction. 

At the very least, he hadn’t hissed again. But he hadn’t made any sounds at all, so Jackson wasn’t actually sure if that was actually an improvement or not. 

Jackson couldn’t just reach out to him like he did for Bambam. He’d seen from his tense stature that he wasn’t comfortable being touched by even Bambam, and he actually liked him, apparently. 

He still hadn’t said a single word to Jackson, only nodding when Jackson showed him around the house. He’d retreated into the guest room farthest from Jackson’s own when he was given the choice.

Granted, it still wasn’t that far, but Jackson hoped it representative of the future. Bambam had wanted to be close, after all, and the fact that Mark wanted to be isolated didn’t go unnoticed. 

Mark was difficult to read, and that fact alone made Jackson uneasy. Bambam was usually an open book. He could always tell what the younger boy needed, or when he was feeling a bit off. And it didn’t take much encouragement to get him to say what was on his mind. This of course applied to small things, like Bambam accidentally scratching one of his CDs or eating the packet of ramen that Jackson had set aside specifically for himself. But it also applied to major things, like the hard discussions they’d had earlier that night.

Jackson thought the main difference must be trust. Bambam trusted him almost immediately. He guessed it was just Bambam’s nature. Mark, most likely, wouldn’t be so easy to reassure.

He knew why it was like that, and he didn’t blame him one bit. He figured he’d be wary of humans too, if he’d had to deal with what Mark went through.

Still, Jackson was a tad shaken. The night had been long. He was still haunted by images of Bambam being in Mark’s place, being used as some kind of kiddie sex slave for some faceless pervert. 

He thought of Bambam being told to suck on what sounded like a fucking dildo, under the guise of “training”. That was real, not a nightmarish fantasy, and it stung Jackson hard. 

He thought about what had happened to Mark, a cat-boy who was kind enough to worry over a young stranger, now hidden in a room a few doors down. He wished he could go to him, craved a conversation and the warmth of a hug. But he knew Mark wasn’t the type who needed that.

If anything, a hug would make things worse. But Jackson was still Jackson, and he ached for the contact. He could feel the tell-tale lump in his throat, tears already forming in his eyes again. 

Jackson sat on his bed for only a second more before making his mind up. He stood up, walking out of his bedroom as quickly as he could.

He raised his fist to knock on the door, but it swung open as soon as he started to. Bambam was looking up at him, frown and furrowed eyebrows showing the distressed feeling Jackson had was mutual. 

“I heard you outside, hyung.” Bambam paused, taking in the tears that were now freely streaming down Jackson’s face. 

“Jackson-hyung, come here.” With that, he opened his arms wide. Jackson didn’t need to be told twice, rushing to embrace his friend. Bambam wrapped his arms tightly around Jackson’s waist, and Jackson leaned down to pull his own arms around the cat-boy’s neck. 

“I… I needed to see you, Bam. Can I… Can I stay here tonight? With you, I mean.” Bambam actually didn’t seem all that surprised, stepping back and gesturing for him to step inside.

Jackson didn’t spend all that much time in Bambam’s bedroom. Bambam usually followed him around, meaning they spent most of their days in his either his own bedroom or the other rooms of the house. 

Now that he was here though, he thought that particular habit was a mistake.

Several girl group posters decorated the walls. His CD player was on, playing a song Bambam hummed nearly incessantly. The sheets were pale purple with little rainbow stars printed all over. The pillowcase didn’t match, being dark blue with a cartoon owl printed on it. Bambam moved over to the fuzzy pink chair in the corner, picking up a pillow resting against the back and tossing it over to the bed. This pillow clashed even more with the sheets, being yellow and covered in dark-red zigzagged stripes.

It was somehow perfect. It was just so fitting for Bambam, and that familiarity was comforting on its own. The room even smelled like him, and Jackson was relieved to inhale that fruity scent he’d by now committed to memory.

It was a far cry from Jackson’s own room. He’d tried to add some of his own style to it, but it never really felt like it belonged to him. He’d never been emotionally able to change much of what his aunt had left behind, aside from switching the clothes in the closet to his own and moving her makeup and jewelry to a box under the large bed.

Bambam climbed into bed, turning on his side to face away from Jackson. Jackson hurriedly clambered in after him, laying his pillow down before instinctively reaching for the warmth of the younger.

He’d fallen asleep beside Bambam once, but that was different. That was Bambam’s first night in the house, when they were both tired and overstuffed with warm food, when the lull of the soft couch was overwhelmingly sleep-inducing.

Jackson worried briefly over whether or not he’d crossed some sort of line by snuggling up to him now, but that fear vanished when Bambam reached behind him, softly grabbing onto his friend’s arm. Jackson could see the soft smile on his face.

Jackson smiled too, feeling better than he had all night. He wrapped his arm around the hybrid’s waist, nuzzling into his dark hair. His face was still wet with tears, but it was now a comfortable sort of crying, a release from the steadily intensifying emotions of the night. 

Bambam’s tail reached back to hook around Jackson’s torso, and that should have felt weird, but instead felt amazingly right. Sweet and soothing and just so _Bambam_. 

Jackson slept peacefully, fruity-scent filling his nostrils and warmth finally filling his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Physical/Sexual Abuse, Mentions of possible Underage Abuse. It's all things that happened in the past, and not many details are given, but I felt a warning was needed.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! The actual plot is finally starting up. Not all of this story will be so heavy, I swear it's mostly fluff. But some background had to be expanded on before we can really get into the fuzzy stuff/smut.


	6. Ghost

Jackson opened his eyes blearily, sunlight streaming in from the flimsily covered window. 

He wasn’t used to that particular form of waking. His own curtains were dark blue, thick, and chosen specifically to block out what was happening now. He groggily thought this must be Bambam’s secret to always waking up before him, ensuring Jackson could start his mornings with a warm breakfast.

Bambam.

He was in Bambam’s room, in his bed, being woken up by way too harsh sunlight. Jackson rolled towards his left, eyes shut tight against the brightness as he blindly reached for his friend.

The bed beside him seemed to be empty, and reluctantly opening his eyes only confirmed this.

Jackson sighed heavily, pushing himself into a seated position as he reached for his phone to check the time, only to curse when he realized he left it in his room. He wiped at his eyes, feeling sleep and dried tears crusted onto his eyelids, as he stood up off the bed. He didn’t really want to get up, but the need for Bambam outweighed his desire to stay comfortable.

He still felt exhausted, no doubt from the emotional strain of the night before. And when he was tired, he was even clingier than normal. He knew this from his own childhood and teenage years, when he spent most of his time in some form of exhaustion and had required more attention from his parents than ever.

Of course, then, it was a cruel cycle. If he was tired, it was because he was working longer hours, and those were the times he barely was home at all, too busy to ever receive the contact he craved.

Now, that was not the case. He had his new family, dear, sweet Bambam who would definitely pay attention to him. And now there was also Mark…

Jackson decided as he walked down the stairs that he’d just try to be polite to Mark while still giving him some space. Mark had seemed really jumpy and unsure the previous night, and Jackson didn’t blame him for feeling that way. 

Still, he hoped they could become friends too. Maybe just a bit more slowly, but it could work out. 

Jackson’s thoughts were quieted as he was instead overwhelmed by nervousness as he stood in the kitchen doorway.

Bambam was there, like he’d expected, one hand grasping a wooden spoon where it sat on his hip, other hand reaching for the salt shaker. He turned to greet Jackson like always, complete with his toothy grin and perky ears.

The difference was that Bambam wasn’t alone like usual. Mark was sitting at the breakfast bar, hunched over a cup of what looked like orange juice. His worried expression couldn’t be more different than Bambam’s welcoming smile, and Jackson’s heart squeezed in his chest.

Jackson still felt off-guard thinking about all the things he now knew about hybrids. About people like Mark, about even his innocent little Bambam being prepared for such a sickening role.

But now wasn’t the time to think about those things. Instead, Jackson flashed a warm smile to both hybrids, trying to reassure both of them.

“Good morning, Bambam! Mark! Did you both sleep well?” Mark’s frown shifted to a vaguely confused expression, as if he wasn’t quite sure why Jackson wasn’t asking him any questions or paying him all that much attention. Jackson tore his eyes away from Mark, determined not to stare. And really, Bambam made it too easy to stare at him instead. He still hadn’t changed out of Jackson’s oversized sleeping shirt, and one shoulder had now dropped down a bit. The contrast of the white shirt showed off his lightly tanned skin, a product of all the time the pair spent outdoors.

“Jackson-hyung, good morning! You know I slept well, so why even ask?” Bambam had that sassy sort of smirk he always wore when he teased Jackson. Jackson would never tell his friend just how much he loved seeing that expression. 

Instead, he crossed over to where Bambam stood and lightly tapped his nose, causing Bambam to shriek in over exaggerated horror at the dreaded poke. He quickly moved his hands to cover his nose as best he could while still clutching the spoon and salt shaker. Salt spilled onto the floor and Jackson had to laugh at Bambam’s antics. 

Bambam rapidly threw his hands down, dropping the troublesome items onto the kitchen counter before crossing his arms and stamping his foot.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me! After all I did for you this morning, putting away the dishes and making all this food.” At that he gestured to the pair of pots on the stove, lids blocking what they actually contained. “And what do I get for my troubles? A jab to the nose!” 

The two shared a hard stare, Jackson fighting to keep in more laughter with a carefully crafted frown. Bambam’s face echoed his own, but the older could see the shakiness around his mouth, indicating their game was almost up.

Jackson sped things up by lurching forward, fingers ticking Bambam’s sides at exactly the same moment Bambam had already lost his composure. Jackson couldn’t keep frowning when listening to Bambam’s howls of laughter, so he joined him instead, losing all control as Bambam’s tiny hands swatted at Jackson’s. Jackson’s hands had stopped the tickling, as he was no longer able to keep the motion through his laughs.

It felt great to laugh. It wasn’t even that funny, really, but Jackson had needed this release and now found he couldn’t pull himself back together again. Each look at Bambam’s pouty but giggly face launched another series of giggles. 

The squeak of a barstool turning caught him off guard. For a moment, he’d actually forgotten they weren’t alone in the kitchen. 

Mark was getting off the stool, empty cup in hand. Jackson immediately straightened out, hand automatically falling to Bambam’s waist in a silent message to do the same. He, of course, understood, and inched closer to Jackson while reigning in his laughs to a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry we’re so rowdy, Mark. I know we can get kind of loud.” Bambam explained to Mark. Jackson was frozen in place, still unsure of how to act around the new presence.

To Jackson’s surprise, Mark actually seemed more comfortable. He wasn’t hunched in on himself, and his ears weren’t flat against his head. It was easier to see their brilliant red-orange color now that they weren’t camouflaged in his matching fiery hair. 

Mark gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to Bambam before turning to Jackson. He looked him straight in the eyes, obviously searching for something, though Jackson wasn’t quite sure what. He guessed maybe Mark was trying to evaluate if he was as genuine as Bambam had told him at the party. 

Mark’s eyes were cold grey, not quite as wide as Bambam’s but still a bit larger than average, and obviously feline. His stare was intimidating in a way that made Jackson want to shudder. But he knew he shouldn’t, so he kept his composure. He stayed steady- not moving his hand from Bambam’s waist- before offering a small smile. 

Mark didn’t respond immediately, still glaring down at Jackson. He was just the tiniest bit taller than Jackson, but Jackson had unconsciously stooped down to get better access to the shorter Bambam when he’d wrapped an arm around his waist. Jackson had to fight himself to avoid stretching back up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to feel less small. He didn’t like how nervous Mark’s stare was making him. 

A moment later, Mark finally broke eye contact, nodding his head down to Jackson just as he had to Bambam before. Before Jackson could even hope to try and formulate something to say, Mark was walking away. His movements were as fast as a sprinting human, but it was obvious he was only walking, and the effect was downright unsettling to Jackson.

He couldn’t help but heave a huge sigh of relief when the sound of Mark’s bedroom door slamming shut rang out. Bambam was right there at his side, wrapping an arm around him and firmly holding him up. Jackson turned to Bambam, settling his head in the crook of Bambam’s neck, breathing in the comfort the younger offered. 

Jackson was worried, and his heart was still racing from his encounter. He wasn’t sure how to deal with Mark at all. But what was more concerning than his uncertainty was his fear.

Jackson was a little scared of Mark, and he didn’t know what to do about that at all.

~~~

Mark didn’t come out of his room for the rest of the day.

Bambam said he hadn’t talked all that much before Jackson arrived, but did tell him all he knew about Mark. 

Mark was actually older than both of them, but had specifically asked not to be called “hyung” when Bambam asked if it was okay, but he hadn’t said why. Mark spoke English better than Korean, and really hated eggplant.

Jackson found it unsettling that he knew so little about someone he was living with, but it couldn’t be helped. Jackson wasn’t going to force Mark to interact with either him or Bambam.

Still, Jackson spent the day on eggshells. He jumped whenever he thought he heard sounds coming from upstairs. Bambam noticed, but was gracious enough not to point it out.

Talking about how anxious he felt would only make him feel worse. Once again, Jackson found himself feeling thankful that Bambam seemed to implicitly know what he needed. And what he needed was a lot of affection, arms wrapped around him and soft strokes to his hair, interspersed with the kind of distractions Bambam excelled t creating. That first uncomfortably different day as spent with races around the yard, dares revolving around just how strong Jackson really was, and more than one round of impromptu karaoke in the living room. 

Jackson’s day was nervous and more than a little jumpy, but time still passed more quickly than he ever thought it could. He was always impressed with Bambam’s ability to make one day never seem like it was long enough for all the fun possibilities. 

That night, Jackson went to his own room to sleep. A little earlier than he’d really like, but he guessed that maybe Mark would come out if Jackson was out of the way. And Bambam said Mark hadn’t eaten anything yet, only grabbing a glass of juice, so Jackson was starting to get really concerned.

He tried not to stay up and listen for Mark, but he couldn’t resist. Sure enough, he heard the creak of a door opening less than half an hour after he’d said good night to Bambam in the hallway.

Of course Mark had heard that conversation. His hybrid hearing probably let him hear more than he’d ever want to.

Jackson put some headphones on after he heard Bambam speaking to Mark. He couldn’t make out what they were actually saying, and he didn’t particularly want to either. He wanted to give them privacy.

His bed felt awfully lonely compared to Bambam’s, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about a starving hybrid a few doors down. Jackson felt confident that Bambam’s cooking could win just about anyone over, and that reassuring thought combined with his own lingering exhaustion was more than enough to lull him into sleep.

~~~

The trio settled into a new kind of routine that Bambam and Mark had worked out over dinner that first night. Bambam would wake earlier than he had before and made breakfast. Mark would go downstairs to the kitchen and get his serving before taking it back to his room. Jackson would then wake up and eat his breakfast together with Bambam.

For the rest of the day, Mark didn’t come out of his room. He’d chosen one of the guest rooms with a small attached toilet room, so he didn’t really need to come out until after Jackson went to sleep. Then, he ate his dinner and talked with Bambam. 

Jackson spent his days with Bambam, at first hyper aware of Mark’s ghostly presence in his home. As the days passed, he stopped thinking about him so often. 

He still thought of him, sure. But Bambam always provided enough distractions that Jackson was only too happy to indulge in, and he was no longer really afraid of Mark. Thinking about him still made Jackson a little nervous, but after a couple of days the issue seemed pretty distant. After all, he hadn’t even seen Mark since that first morning, and “out of sight, out of mind” had always applied to Jackson, with his persistently short attention span. 

Bambam sometimes told him snippets of things about Mark. Bambam had given some of his own clothes to Mark, and the older cat-boy seemed to favor the red t-shirt he’d been given. Jackson could only too easily picture how that must look with Mark’s already bright hair, ears, and tail.

Mark also liked hamburger more than other kind of meat. He didn’t know anything about girl groups, but liked Female President when Bambam played the song for him, an opinion Bambam heartily approved of. He still didn’t talk much, but Bambam thought that might just be his personality more than discomfort, as he didn’t seem all that awkward anymore. 

Jackson liked hearing things about Mark. They were still essentially strangers, but the details made Mark seem more like a friend than someone entirely unknown. 

~~~

Jackson was resting his head in Bambam’s lap as they sat in front of the television. He’d just had to make some unpleasantly dull business calls, and the lure of a soft couch, Weekly Idol, and his favorite person in the world were too tempting to even try to resist. 

So Bambam sat up straight, occasionally commenting on the outfits and mannerisms of the boy group on the screen while he carded his hand through Jackson’s hair. Jackson found the action entirely too soothing; his eyes were drooping shut quite quickly as he was lulled into drowsiness. 

Understandably, he was startled when the doorbell rang. Bambam jumped up a bit too, but followed close behind as Jackson walked over to the front door.

It was quite rare for anyone to come by. Actually, it hadn’t happened the whole time Bambam lived with Jackson, aside from an expected-but-boring delivery of food. Bambam’s excited bouncing of anticipation was so adorable that Jackson couldn’t help grinning and ruffling his hair before opening the door. 

Jackson was surprised when he opened the door. He hadn’t been expecting anyone in particular, but this visitor was especially shocking.

Of all possible people to be on his front doorstep, Jackson definitely hadn’t expected to see a hybrid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is long overdue, but I got pretty stuck with this story (I wrote three versions of this chapter!) and lost some motivation. I was just feeling down about my writing in general, and this is my pet-project so I was wary about ruining what I've started. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! The next chapter will likely be longer, and I experimented with continuing this chapter but this just seemed like the most natural place to pause. As always, I love to read your comments and am grateful for any kudos. Thank you for reading my story!


	7. A New Face

Jackson looked at the hybrid, not knowing quite what to say. He was pretty, with his pale skin making his ebony black hair and ears stand out even more. He looked tense shifting on his feet and looking away from both Jackson and Bambam. Jackson noticed his fluffy dark tail twitching nervously behind him 

Jackson was just about to speak when he heard a sound. Footsteps, fast, coming down the stairs. He barely had time to step out of the way of the charging blur of a cat-boy barreling through the doorway.

“Jinyoungie!” A voice that Jackson somewhat dazedly realized was Mark’s cried out. Mark himself was now embracing the new hybrid quite tightly. His face was buried in the crook of the dark-haired stranger’s neck, and the other hybrid had his arms snugly wrapped around Mark’s waist. “Jinyoungie! I saw you from my room and I couldn’t run down fast enough! Jinyoung…” Mark trailed off in favor of just closing his eyes and inhaling into the new hybrid’s throat with his arms still looped around the new cat-boy’s neck. 

Jackson was definitely confused. He looked over to Bambam, who’d stepped in the opposite direction to avoid a collision with Mark. His friend only shrugged helplessly, apparently just as taken off-guard as Jackson. 

Jackson turned back to the clingy boys on his front step. Their reunion didn’t seem to be breaking up anytime soon, so Jackson cleared his throat, trying to get their attention. It worked, as both boys’ heads snapped up, but their arms remained intertwined, bodies pressed together. 

“Er… I don’t mean to interrupt or anything but do you want to come in? To the house, I mean.” The stranger looked at Mark, who looked at Jackson before nodding slowly. Jackson couldn’t help but feel like that simple nod indicated some sort of heavier meaning of approval, based on Mark’s appraising expression.

Mark pulled away from the other boy, shifting to holding the other boy’s hand and led him into the house. Jackson copied the gesture with Bambam before walking behind them and locking the front door. He was unsure of the current situation and wanted Bambam close.

Mark sauntered past the living room, straight to the kitchen. Jackson just followed, letting him call the shots. Mark pushed the new hybrid onto a barstool at the breakfast bar before clambering onto his lap.Jackson wanted to comment that it seemed terribly unsafe, but they seemed oddly balanced in spite of their precarious position.

Frankly, Jackson was jealous. He wished he could balance Bambam on his lap on those wobbly, rotating stools. That would make breakfasts a bit more fun. 

Bambam tugged on Jackson’s sleeve until he too was sitting on a barstool. Bambam stood directly beside Jackson, hand settling on his knee. 

Mark leaned against the bar, settling on his elbow. The shift let Jackson see the new hybrid's face, even with an armful of Mark, who was now mumbling the name “Jinyoung” as he nuzzled against the side of the hybrid’s throat. .

He still looked very nervous. His eyes kept shifting from looking at Mark to hurriedly fixing his gaze back on Jackson. It honestly seemed like he was trying to maintain eye contact with Jackson, but couldn’t stop looking at Mark.

There was something familiar in the expression he wore when he didn’t resist and looked at the red-haired hybrid, but Jackson couldn’t quite place it. He was getting frustrated trying to figure it out when Bambam cleared his throat, drawing his attention away.

“Do you know Mark? Well that seems obvious so let me rephrase that. How do you know Mark? Who are you?” Jackson was glad that Bambam started the questioning, because he didn’t really want to. He didn't know quite what to say.

Jinyoung looked to Jackson warily, as if he was still unsure of whether or not to speak. Jackson sighed softly, but panicked a bit when Jinyoung stiffened up, squaring his shoulders tensely.

“No, no, don’t get the wrong idea. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t like all of that..” Jackson gestured with his hands, trying to find words to express how much he hated hybrids acting all submissive without scaring Jinyoung off. “I just don’t like all of those formalities. You can talk whenever you want. If Bambam talks to you, his words are worth as much as mine. Okay?” 

Jinyoung nodded, blinking slowly while still maintaining eye contact. Usually being stared at would feel intimidating but something in Jinyoung's expression made him seem awfully vulnerable. 

“I am called Park Jinyoung. I belong to Master Seungcheol Park and Mistress Sojin Park. Their home is beside the home of Master Kim Yo-han. As it would happen, Mark-ssi and I saw each other frequently as we went about our duties, such as tending to our owners’ gardens. There was a bit of overlap between the two yards, there’s no fences allowed in the neighborhood, and that allowed us to speak to each other, when we were allowed spare time. Eventually, we became friends.” 

At that, Mark turned sharply to stare at Jinyoung, and the expectant expression on his face made it clear that he wanted Jinyoung to say more. 

When he didn’t, Mark wagged his tail and turned his head away from Jinyoung, leaning more on the counter than against the other hybrid. Mark looked Jackson dead in the eyes before crossing his arms and squaring his shoulders. “Jinyoung is my partner. If he won’t say it, I will.” Jackson couldn’t help but gasp, and he wasn’t alone. Jinyoung himself was now slapping at Mark’s arm, looking scandalized. 

“It’s fine, Jinyoungie, I don’t think he’ll care. He’s not interested in fucking me anyway, he hasn’t even touched me. He’s got a thing for the little one over there.” At that, he pointed at Bambam, whose face turned almost as red as Mark’s hair. 

“No, no! You’ve got it wrong! I don’t do anything to Bambam, he’s my best friend.” Bambam nodded fervently in agreement.

“Yeah, I know you don’t fuck him either. I have ears. If you want to tell yourself you don’t like each other, I don’t really care. But I still think you do. I have since I got here. It’s what makes me feel safe. Besides, Bambam, you should hear the way you talk about him.” Bambam looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, and Jackson’s heart squeezed at the sight. He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around his middle, dragging him back close to his own stool.

“See? It’s exactly that kind of thing, But whatever, that’s not even the point. The point is Jinyoung isn’t just my friend, he’s my partner. Like, romantically and everything. Do you mind that?” Jackson shook his head quickly, because he didn’t see why he possibly would mind. Mark looked satisfied, wiggling back to relax against Jinyoung’s chest.

Jackson felt relieved at how relaxed Mark looked. He’d said more than a few words, for the first time ever in Jackson’s earshot, and now looked entirely content, snuggling back against the other hybrid.

If Jinyoung made Mark that comfortable, he’d have to come by more often. When he bought Mark, he’d made an obligation to him, just as he’d done for Bambam. Even if he hadn’t expressed it to Mark, he definitely felt responsible for his welfare. And he needed to make Jinyoung feel more comfortable, Mark may have relaxed, but it was obvious that Jinyong was still drawn tightly. Jackson wasn’t oblivious to the terms “Master” and “Mistress”, and he could tell Jinyoung’s words were chosen carefully and with respectful calculation.

“Jinyoung-ah. Please, relax a bit. You’re safe here. And Mark is too. So just, breathe in and try to take it easy. We don’t use formal titles here, and you don’t need to look as if you’re taking an exam when you speak.” Jinyoung still looked a bit disconcerted, with his dark brows furrowed a bit against his pale forehead, but his shoulders did relax a bit and he moved his arm from hanging stiffly at his side to stroke at the side of Mark’s stomach through his dark red hoodie. 

“So, moving on, you have an owner, Jinyoung? What are they like?” Jinyoung nodded at Jackson’s question. 

“They’re a married couple. I was a wedding gift from her father.” The thought of gifting a person seemed absurd, but then everything he learned about hybrids lately felt that way. Still, the thought of what hybrids were often used for was already nagging at Jackson; he just had to know if Jinyoung was in a similar boat. 

“Do they treat you well?” Jinyoung shrugged with his right arm, still holding Mark’s waist with both hands.

“They treat me fine. They didn’t particularly need a hybrid, so I don’t have all that much to do. That’s how I’m here now. It wasn’t too hard to sneak away, once I found out who bought Mark.” Mark glanced back at Jinyoung through heavily lidded eyes, clearly feeling safe and comfortable in Jinyoung’s loose embrace. 

“How did you find me? I would’ve tried to let you know where I was going but I didn’t even realize the old bastard was selling me until we got out of the car.” Jinyoung raised his right hand away from Mark’s torso, absentmindedly stroking the side of Mark’s face. Mark’s eyes shut softly, breathing heavy breaths in the otherwise quiet room.

“I asked around. Do you realize how panicked I was when I couldn’t find you for so long? You never were in the yard. Finally I ran into his sister. You know, the one who had a thing for me?” Mark sighed lightly, slight frown appearing on his pretty mouth, but his eyes remained closed.

“Yes, I know. The one who never seemed to be sharp enough to realize you’re not even into girls.” Jinyoung smiled softly, fondness shining in the wrinkles of his eyes.

“Well, her dull mind came in handy. She was quite easy to charm the information out of. I was getting the mail when she was leaving, which is how I usually run into her anyway. All it took was five minutes of pretending to have a change of heart and she was putty. I came here as soon as I could after.” Mark smiled now, eyes still shut as he leaned his head on Jinyoung’s shoulder.

“You’re very charming when you need to be, Jinyoungie,” Jinyoung’s smile got even wider, pink dusting his pale cheeks, but his response was level and didn’t reveal any embarrassment on his part. 

“So I’ve been told, my dear.” Mark’s eyes snapped opened and he swatted at Jinyoung, too lightly to be anything besides playful. Jinyoung made an overexaggerated shocked face before switching to an equally over the top pout.

Jackson was grateful that Mark seemed so much more at ease, comfortable enough to talk so much in front of him. And he was glad that Mark seemed so happy. He’d never seen him smile before, and it was almost intimidatingly pretty, all white teeth and charmingly blushed cheeks. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed how gorgeous Mark really was before, because now he was finding it hard to focus at anything that wasn’t his smile, his soft features, his row of dark eyelashes....

Well, before he’d had more pressing concerns when he’d seen Mark. Now, the situation seemed much less tense and he could finally just relax and actually take everything in.

Still, Jackson felt a bit out of place watching Mark and Jinyoung, like it was something too intimate for his eyes. He watched them tease each other for another moment before making his decision.

“Jinyoung, do you think you can stay a while? You guys can always go reunite up in Mark’s room, if you like.” Jinyoung looked genuinely surprised and stayed still, but Mark instead jumped off Jinyoung’s lap, shooting Jackson a grin that was a flash of sharp teeth as he grabbed for Jinyoung’s hand. 

“Thanks, Master Wang. We’ll report back to you in a while then.” Jackson tried not to grimace at being called that, but he didn’t get a chance to correct him before Mark was already dragging Jinyoung away, at a speed way too fast to be human.

Jackson hadn’t realized he’d stopped breathing until Bambam crouched down to look him in the eye, setting his small hands on Jackson’s shoulders. “You okay, hyung?”Jackson nodded slowly. He was okay, really.

“It’s fine, Bam. I’m just tired and everything happened so quickly.” Bambam nodded, stepping back to sit in the newly unoccupied barstool opposite of Jackson. 

“Jinyoung seemed nice. And I’ve never seen Mark so happy. He always seems less skittish when we eat together but he’s never looked actually happy before tonight.” 

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. That’s why I told them to go off on their own. If Jinyoung makes Mark so happy, they should get some time together. Without us gawking at them.” Bambam gasped in mock horror, flinging a hand up to his chest.

“Excuse me, hyung, but I am not a gawker! I was merely casually observing. Maybe you are a dreaded gawker, but that’s not me. Don’t drag me down with you.” Jackson relaxed a bit, leaning forward with a smile on his face.

“Oh, really? Too high and mighty to stare now are we?” 

Bambam nodded solemnly, his serious face not wavering at all. “That’s not for me. I’m too…” Bambam paused here for obvious emphasis, holding a hand to his heart as he stared ahead. “I’m too dignified for such behavior. Imagine me, _Wang Bambam_ , a gawker!” Jackson smiled along with his dramatics until the end of Bambam’s sentence fully hit him.

He’d actually used Jackson’s last name.

He knew that was a thing a lot of hybrids did, as it’s what their masters wanted. For convenience, so everyone would know who they belonged to. But Jackson had clearly told Bambam he didn’t have to do that, he didn’t have to leave behind his old name just for Jackson’s sake.

But he’d done it anyway. Apparently, without even realizing it, as his silly act finally made him explode into a flurry of giggles. Jackson really wanted to make a big deal out of it, wanted to tell Bambam how much he really meant to him and thank him for becoming his family the way he had.

But that was heavy, the kind of conversation Jackson really wanted to avoid if he could help it. He’d never liked those somber moments, even if they were sentimental. He was too easy of a crier as it was; even now he was fighting back tears as Bambam bent over himself laughing in his kitchen.

It seemed almost longer than it actually was, those short moments of Bambam’s guffaws matched with Jackson’s quiet introspection. It didn't drag on too long because it couldn’t. Once he’d made the decision not to question it, he had to move on, or Bambam would know something was up. And that’s the last thing Jackson wanted.

So Jackson joined him, laughing more out of joy at Bambam’s existence than this particular comedy act. But Bambam didn’t need to know why he was laughing. It was enough to him that he made his hyung laugh so much.

Jackson, despite wanting to keep his emotions in check, still wanted some sort of contact with Bambam. He stepped forward and looped an arm around the younger’s waist, pulling him in closer before dropping a quick kiss to his temple.

And just like that, the moment was over. Bambam was now pulling away, still giggling a bit while he suggested they go watch television. Jackson hurriedly agreed, already making his way over to the living room couch.

He wanted to think about it more, but there just wasn’t enough time. Later, he could stew it over. But now, Bambam needed him to be cheery and make snide comments about their favorite variety shows.

Jackson could do that for him, so he did.

~~~

Jackson was a bit torn. He honestly wanted to drag Bambam upstairs and pull him into bed, but at the same time he didn’t want to be too close to the other pair in the house. Plus, he felt obligated to stay awake. After all, Jinyoung was a guest and it just didn’t seem polite to just go and sleep the first time a new guest was in the house.

But he was really tired. Jinyoung had been in the house for almost three hours, and it was now after eleven o’clock. And dealing with business always made him rather irritable, and that’s what he’d spent more of his day doing than he’d have liked. Plus, the business with Bambam earlier had drained him even more. He hadn’t cried or anything, but holding back when he wanted to so badly was actually proving more exhausting than the real deal. 

“Bam…” Said cat-boy looked up from the magazine he’d been lazily flipping through. His cheeks looked so irresistibly soft that Jackson leaned over and gently poked his fingertips into the round skin. Bambam didn’t shove him off, so he scooted over close to Bambam, eventually just climbing onto the younger’s lap.

“Bambam…” Jackson knew his tone was whiny, but he wanted to whine. There was no way he could really get what he wanted at the moment without being rude. And Jackson didn’t want to be rude. He liked Mark and Mark liked Jinyoung, so that was that Bambam wrapped his thin arms around Jackson’s waist, pulling him down closer. Jackson leaned down until his nose was touching Bambam’s, until his nose was filled with that pleasantly fruity smell that clung to Bambam at all times.

Jackson was content, at least for now. He still wanted to sleep, preferably in a bed that wasn’t his own, but he felt like putty in Bambam’s soft embrace. He rubbed his nose against Bambam’s in a light eskimo kiss, closing his eyes shut as he breathed soft breaths.

“Do you want me to go check on them? I know you’re tired.” Bambam’s offer was given in a soft voice, barely above a whisper. It only further soothed Jackson’s sleepy mind. Jackson shook his head lightly.

“No, Bam. I don’t want you to leave me.” Bambam giggled, but it was more breathy and gentle than his usual loud, high-pitched shrieks.

“It would only be a moment. I’d say you could come up with me but I know you’re too sleepy to make the effort to socialize. Aren’t you, hyung?” Jackson’s agreement came in a low hum as he shifted to burying his face in the younger’s shoulder. It was too bony to be truly comfortable, but it felt right anyway. 

Bambam rubbed light circles on his back before tensing a bit, sitting up straighter. “They’re coming downstairs; I hear them.” Jackson’s heart lurched as he realized just how iffy they probably looked, with Jackson straddling the younger. He jumped up and tried to arrange himself in a natural position, just in time for Mark and Jinyoung to speed into the room.

Jackson tried to smile instead of scowling. Yeah, he’d wanted them to come back, but he’d just been interrupted. He should feel comfortable doing whatever the fuck he wanted with Bambam in his own house. But Mark had to go and ruin it by making things all awkward, implying that his intentions with Bambam were anything less than the innocent thing it really was.

It was innocent, wasn’t it?

Jackson glanced over at Bambam, at the black sweater that swallowed him whole. He ignored the patch of skin revealed by the oversized fabric slipping off a narrow shoulder, even though his eyes felt magnetized to it. No, instead he looked at the mischievous grin on his face, a face that was round and adorable and soft.

Yes, of course it was innocent. Bambam was just a kid. 

He realized he’d taken a moment too long to acknowledge Jinyoung and Mark’s presence, but for their part, they didn’t entirely seem to notice. Jinyoung was making a face at Mark and Mark was fighting back laughter. He suddenly lost that battle, instead letting out a few peals of giggles.

His laugh was pretty. Not overly loud, just a bit higher than Jackson expected, considering the deepness of his speaking voice. But it wasn't unpleasantly so. Jackson’s annoyance at the interruption faded quickly. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit, Mark’s own being infectious enough to spur Jackson into joining him. 

Jinyoung and Mark turned sharply to face Jackson, both looking quite sheepish. Neither of them spoke, but Mark rubbed the back of his neck, eyes down at the floor. 

“Er.. I didn’t mean to interrupt you? Your laugh just made me laugh. I mean, I’m not saying your laugh was weird or anything. I liked it! Er…” Jackson trailed off, now feeling sheepish himself. 

Bambam laughed now, looking at all the older boys being reduced into painful shyness. Jackson frowned at him, trying to let him know it wasn’t very funny, but that only made Bambam giggle more. Jackson didn’t expect it any differently, if he was honest with himself. 

Bambam’s laughter eventually faded off, leaving the room in awkward silence. Jackson wanted to say something to try and ease the tension, but he wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he stared pleadingly at Bambam. Thankfully, he got the message.

“So, Jinyoung-hyung? I can call you hyung, right?” Jinyoung opened his mouth to say something but Bambam disregarded him by continuing anyway. “Jinyoung-hyung, are you staying over? Or are you just going to come back later? You wouldn’t have come down here if there was nothing to say.” Jinyoung sighed softly, looking at Mark’s small frown as he answered Bambam.

“It’s not possible for me to stay. I need to get home before my masters notice my absence. The walk over here took over an hour, even at my brisk pace, and it wouldn’t do to be spotted by someone who knows my owners. Walking back in the daylight heightened my risk.” Jackson didn’t even have to think over his response, it was automatic.

“You’re not walking back. If I’d known you’d walked over here I’d have offered to drive you sooner. Just go take an extra half hour or so with Mark and then come back to the front of the house. I’ll drive you back and drop you off closer to your house.” Jinyoung looked surprised again but Mark’s frown quickly turned to a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Master Wang. Really.” He grabbed Jinyoung’s hand and dragged him away, moving in that speedy way that only hybrids could. Jackson sighed and clutched his temples as they left.

“I could tell Mark that it bothers you when he runs like that.” Bambam offered. Jackson nodded, trying to fight back a grimace at how the blurry movement sent a pain to his tired brain.

“Please do. But be nice and gentle about it. I don’t want him thinking I’m some sort of nitpicky bastard.” Bambam smiled and reached up to fondly pat Jackson’s hair. 

“You’re far from that. You’re so kind. You’re exhausted and you barely know Jinyoung. Really, you barely even know Mark. But you’re still so kind to them anyway. I know you just want to sleep, Jackson-hyung”. Jackson couldn’t argue with that, especially when Bambam’s hand moved from gentle pats to moving softly through his hair. It was kind of funny that it felt so nice, seeing as Bambam was the cat in the situation, but Jackson didn’t want to break the mood so he just gave Bambam a tight-lipped smile.

Bambam moved his hands away from his hair and grabbed his arm instead, leading him to the kitchen. The hybrid pushed him lightly onto a barstool while he hummed a Miss A song, swishing his tail lightly as he brewed a pot of coffee.

Jackson relaxed back onto the counter, indulging how heavy his eyelids felt by closing his eyes. He could hear the clinks of Bambam’s movements, probably reaching for the dark blue mug with a tiger on it that Jackson favored lately. Bambam was a little off-key with his humming, but that was just fine.

He couldn’t hear Mark and Jinyoung at all. He wondered if Bambam could. Maybe he was singing to give them some privacy.

Jackson wanted to ask, but he also didn’t. He was tired, but oddly content. Maybe Mark could come out more often now. Maybe he’d really trust him. Maybe Jackson could arrange some playdates with Jinyoung’s owners… No playdate was the wrong word. Meet-up? Hang-out?

Whatever it was called, it didn’t really matter. Jackson would make sure Jinyoung could see Mark. He’d do whatever it took for Mark to finally come join him and Bambam. If Jinyoung was what made him happy, then so be it. Jackson needed them to be a family, whatever it took. And Jinyoung didn’t seem half-bad himself. Jackson smiled to himself, and smiled even more as Bambam butchered the high note in the song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been much longer between updates than I wanted, but at least it's published now. Thank you so much for your continued support and I hope you guys like this chapter! Please let me know what you think about Jinyoung's introduction~


	8. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while but I hope everyone likes the double update!

Jackson woke up blearily and sighed when his reach for Bambam was met with a hand swinging into empty air.

Of course he wasn’t there. Bambam woke up early to make breakfast, as usual. He’d spent the last week in Bambam’s room, so he admonished himself for not correctly guessing Bambam’s absence.

He rolled out of bed, groaning at how cold the air seemed compared to the fuzzy pile of blankets he’d slept in. Last night, he’d retrieved several of his own blankets and added them to Bambam’s bed. Bambam had clicked his tongue in disapproval at the “boring color scheme”, but had smiled and reached to pat Jackson’s head, so he figured it was actually alright.

Jackson grabbed one of his old blankets, a worn but still soft brown one, and wrapped it around his shoulders before grabbing his cell phone and descending down the stairs. His knees felt stiff. He made a mental note to take Bambam outside later so the younger could dance and swing while Jackson got in some exercise.

Maybe he could even convince Mark to come into the yard with them. He’d actually left his room everyday since Jinyoung had left. He was still quiet, but he talked to Bambam, and, much less frequently, Jackson. Still, he always retreated back to his room and spent the majority of his time alone. 

Jackson paused his thoughts to pad into the kitchen, now regretting his habit of never wearing socks to sleep. Why was the house so goddamn cold, anyway? 

He actually noticed the absence of smell before the new presence in the kitchen. He wrinkled his nose as he inhaled, realizing there was always some sort of nice smell when he woke up, ever since Bambam moved into the house. He looked around the apparently empty kitchen and jumped a bit when he noticed the two lumps huddled onto the floor, leaning against the kitchen island.

They looked like blanket potatoes, huddled in what Jackson recognized as the ones in the spare rooms and the ones he kept in the living room. One of them shifted and the hood of his blanket suit fell down, exposing round cheeks and a streak of pink hair. 

“Hyung….”, Bambam dragged the syllable into a whine, staring imploringly at Jackson. Instinctively, Jackson dropped to his knees and put his phone on the floor to offer him his arms. Bambam took his silent offer immediately, climbing into his embrace as best as he could, as he was still fighting to maintain his warm cocoon. 

Jackson wrapped his arms around Bambam but stared at the other lump. His face was entirely covered by the dark green blanket that was usually on the back of the couch, but Jackson knew it had to be Mark. He had never shared a breakfast with Jackson and Bambam, so his presence was surprising but not unwelcome. 

“Are you guys okay? I know it’s kind of cold this morning.” The green blanket snapped back, revealing a pout that made Jackson’s heart squeeze uncomfortably in his chest. 

“Do we _look_ okay, Master Wang? You promised you’d be nice, right? So why is it so cold?” As soon as he finished speaking, Mark shivered violently. His cheeks were flushed pink and it did indeed look like he’d been outside in frigid air rather than in a mildly chilly kitchen.

“I don’t know. It must be the heating unit. I’ll call someone, okay? Bam, let me get my phone.” Bambam made a soft whining sound but complied, scooting back so he was glued onto Jackson’s side instead. Jackson reached out from under his own blanket cape to grab his phone.

It occurred to him that he had no idea who to call. His last home was an apartment, where issues like this got sent to a landlord who owned too many shitty units to care enough to fix it. That’s why he spent so much of his own childhood cold.

But he’d be damned if these guys looked so pathetic for another second. So he turned to his best resource.

One Naver search and awkward phone call later, a heating repair company had been summoned. Now, all they could do was wait. 

Neither hybrid was saying anything. Jackson knew Mark was a bit quiet but it was unusual for Bambam. He decided to clear his throat and try the break the silence.

“You know, it’s not really that cold.” Mark looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at to give Jackson a glare, but didn’t actually respond. Bambam apparently decided to answer for him.

“Maybe not for you, Jackson-hyung. We’re cold. Here, feel.” Bambam winced as he stuck his hand out of his blankets. Jackson held it and felt ice, making him wince in kind. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Is this a er.. hybrid thing? Or a Mark and Bambam thing?” Mark looked at him in an expression that seemed to be evaluating his intelligence. Bambam quickly nodded before continuing.

“Don’t be too harsh on him, Mark. He doesn’t really know anything about hybrids.” Then, he turned his head back to face Jackson. “Yes, it’s a hybrid thing. Maybe just cat-hybrids, I don’t know all that much about dogs to be honest.” Mark nodded, now relaxing a bit against the side of the island.

“Bambam did mention you don’t know that much, I guess I just forgot.” Mark chewed absently on his lip, but still looked expectantly at Jackson. For what, Jackson wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe he wanted to talk more? Jackson could go with that.

“Yeah, I’d never really seen any hybrids before Bam. At least, not up close or on a personal level. The area I lived in was too poor to have them.” Mark’s eyebrow raised up a bit. Jackson thought it was maybe his way of asking for more information. “I don’t know how much Bambam has told you, but I grew up poor. This house and the businesses I run; that’s all just a lucky inheritance. This place used to be my aunt’s.” Jackson knew that might raise even more questions, considering most people with rich families aren’t exactly destitute like he was. Luckily, Mark seemed to accept the answer, nodding softly before trying to draw the blankets around him more tightly. 

Jackson’s stomach growled, and it was loud enough that you didn’t need to have hybrid hearing to hear it. Bambam jumped a bit, gasping as some of the blankets fell down at his sudden movement.

“Breakfast! I forgot breakfast!”, Bambam shouted. He looked so worried that Jackson’s heart lurched in his chest. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s bad that I expect you to do it everyday anyway.” Bambam tried to put a hand on his hip but shivered when his blankets slipped further, so he settled for wrapping the blankets tighter around his arms while crossing them against his chest.

_Cute._

“But Jackson-hyung. I like making breakfast. And it’s the least I can do. You have other things to focus on. Just give me a minute, I’ll throw something together.” Jackson shook his head, leaning over to ruffle Bambam’s messy hair as he stood up.

“I’ve got it. Just for today, if that makes you feel any better. But you’re cold, so just stay there. I’ll handle it.” Bambam made another noise of protest but Jackson had already opened the fridge.

He knew there would be more groceries here. After all, he was with Bambam when they picked out the food. He was the one who carried in the heavy bags, insisting on only making one trip just to try and show off for Bambam, who always showered him with praise they both knew was over exaggerated. 

But still, he’d never actually put away the groceries. And he didn’t even idly look for snacks anymore. Bambam always fed him until they both were stuffed full, and if he did get something extra it was because Bambam brought him something they could eat together.

So the rows of food were a bit overwhelming. Sauces, fruits, vegetables, milk, juices… He noticed the overflowing cheese drawer and couldn’t stop the fond smile from forming. Ever since Bambam found out how much Jackson liked cheese, he’d insisted on keeping the fridge stocked.

He didn’t want to stand there too long. No, he could feel both hybrids’ eyes on his bent over form, and it made him incredibly nervous. He was used to Bambam watching him, but Mark was a whole new presence. 

He bit his lip as he turned around and closed the door, hurriedly going over to the stove. 

He opened the drawer under the stove and pulled out a frying pan before putting it on the burner, setting the heat for low.

“Er.. Jackson-hyung?” Jackson whipped around, raising an eyebrow at Bam. 

“Yes, Bam?” Bambam was giggling now, cute little laughs escaping his mouth as he shakily tried to close his plump lips. 

“You didn’t take anything from the fridge just now.” Jackson jumped back and realized with a start that Bambam was right. The youngest hybrid was now openly laughing, and it only took a second before he was joined in by that high, loud laugh that Jackson already recognized too well as Mark’s. 

Jackson felt his cheeks grow hot as he impatiently stomped back over to the fridge. He jerked the door open, only to make the tub of butter in the door fly out and land directly on his bare foot. 

His shrieks of surprise and pain were drowned out by the now hysterical hybrids. Usually, he’d laugh too. But something about this happening in Mark’s eyeshot was just so embarrassing. He could take care of himself. He could make breakfast. He chanced a glance up and saw Mark bent over with his arms crossed in front of him, cheeks ruddy and eyes shut as he just kept laughing. Jackson quickly averted his eyes as he picked up the tub of butter and stowed it in his left hand so he could grab some eggs and cheese.

In a way, he was glad Mark was at least here, in the kitchen with him and Bambam. And he was laughing. Jackson liked how his laugh sounded, all unexpectedly loud and a little bit husky. But he didn’t want to feel some humiliated. It felt like he was putting a foot in his mouth every time he did anything around Mark, and something about the other boy made Jackson want to impress him. 

The giggles were finally dying down when he got out a knife and scraped out a pat of butter, oiling the pan with it. He’d done this before, it’d just been a while. He knew what to do. Butter the pan, wait until it gets hot, add eggs and scramble them with the small-ish spatula. 

The silence in the kitchen felt a little heavy. Jackson was turned away from the other two, and he felt too awkward to turn around at this point, so he just stared as the butter started to burn in the pan, bubbling up and turning light brown. He cracked an egg on the edge of the counter, putting his thumb inside the crack and pulling it open. Then another egg. And another? How many did three people need? How many did one person need?

He vaguely remembered making three when he was hungry before. Okay, so nine? That seemed like a lot of eggs. Would there be enough space in the pan?

He went ahead and cracked three more, trying to do it quickly. The first eggs he’d cracked were already cooking up nicely and he didn’t want them to be any different.

There were only two eggs left in the carton at this point, so Jackson went ahead and grabbed them too, broke them in a hurry and added them to the mass of yellow in the pan. He scrambled for the spatula and couldn't find it. Had he even pulled it out? Yes, he’d used it to break up the first few eggs in the pan. But then, were the others broken? A quick glance at the pan confirmed that no, he’d forgotten to actually scramble most of the eggs. 

He reached into the drawer and pulled out another spatula, the bigger one that was a bit more annoying to use. Well, there were a lot of eggs anyway. It’d be fine, right?

There was some more snickering behind him, but he didn't have time to focus on who it was from, even though the thought of Mark seeing him give up and grab another spatula made his cheeks red all over again.

He broke up the eggs, hissing a bit in disdain at himself when he noticed some of the eggs were already browning. He quickly opened a bag of cheese and added a handful, then another. These were his eggs, they could be “unhealthily cheesy”, as Bambam admonished him when he thought Jackson had added just too much cheese to whatever it was he was eating.

Plus, the cheese might help hide any problems. That’s what he was hoping for, anyway.

He folded in the cheese and really, they looked decent. Maybe not quite as sunny and happily fluffy as the eggs Bambam made, but they smelled pretty good. 

Bambam started getting plates and forks out of the cabinet. Mark got glasses and the cartons of milk and orange juice before carting them over to the table. It startled Jackson a bit to realize that yes, there really were other people who called his house home and yes, they knew were the dishes and drinks were and when to get them out without needing to be told. 

Mark was still shivering. They both had blankets wrapped around them. Jackson dragged Bambam’s chair close to his own, so close the chairs were touching, before wrapping his right arm around him. He realized belatedly that he should have put him under his left side so he’d have an easier time with his fork, but Bambam had by now snuggled too firmly into his side for Jackson to have any motivation to move. 

Really, Jackson wanted Mark to be on his other side. Even if it stopped him from eating while it was warm. But Mark and Jackson just weren't there yet. And Jackson may have no boundaries, but that didn't mean Mark would feel fine with it.

Jackson grabbed the carton of orange juice and dragged it closer. Bambam opened it while Jackson reached for Mark’s glass, not wanting him to have to reach too far from his blanket cocoon. Bambam poured it while Jackson held the glass steady.

The domesticity of the morning made Jackson feel fuzzy inside, even with the somewhat awkward air he still had around Mark. The eggs weren’t great, but they weren’t a disaster. Mark smirked at him after Jackson choked on a particularly rubbery bite, but gave a big grin at Jackson’s responding pout. Mark’s smile was just so pretty, white and bright and with teeth as sharp as knives. It was the kind of smile that made Jackson’s heart stutter in his chest, so he hurriedly looked back down at his eggs and tried not to dwell on how it made him feel like choking all over again.

~~~

Jackson decided they should go out, as a little family. Mark needed things. The borrowed clothes from Bambam weren’t enough. And over breakfast, it had come to his attention that Mark didn’t actually have a collar.

Now, it wasn’t like Bambam wore his constantly. But he still had his off-white pretty collar on a newly installed hook next to the front door. Whenever they left the house, Bambam put it on. It was safer that way. Jackson hated that hybrids weren’t really trusted to be out on their own, but it was the reality of the world. People may not really respect hybrids, but they respected the ownership humans possessed over them.

“Hey, Mark?” Mark looked up from his stare-down with the sink to focus on Jackson. “Can we go out today and get you some stuff? Like clothes and maybe something you like doing? I got Bam some CDs and stuff. We could get you something like that. Or whatever it is that you’re into.” Mark thought about it, shifted back and forth from the right to left. Ran his pink tongue over the corner of his pretty lips.

“Yeah, okay.” Jackson smiled at him. Bambam started humming from his spot stacking dishes next to the dish washer.

“Okay, great. We need to stop and get you a collar before we go anywhere else. I mean, if that’s okay. You don’t have to wear it all the time or anything, but I’d really rather you wear it when we’re out and about.” Mark frowned, and for a second Jackson panicked internally, scared he’d offended Mark with the suggestion.

“Collar? Like this?” At that, Mark drew a line around his neck. Jackson felt his cheeks warm before nodding, suddenly feeling he’d asked way too much. “Okay, That’s okay.” 

Jackson’s relief made him feel too warm all over again, but he tried to just nod and smile at the older boy. To his surprise, Mark continued talking for a change, “Just… I’m sorry if it takes me a minute.. Korean is hard.” Ah. That was it. Jackson felt embarrassed with himself for being worried now. He walked over and pat Mark’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I know it is. I was pretty young when we moved here but I’m still not so good at it.” Mark nodded, eyes downcast. He picked at the side of his shirt. Bambam’s humming got louder and Jackson looked up at him, welcoming the distraction from the awkward way their conversation was trailing off. 

“Well, um… Get ready to go, you two? We can regroup in fifteen minutes?” Both of the hybrids nodded, Bambam not pausing his humming. Mark practically flew away and up the stairs. Jackson heard the slam of his bedroom door before Jackson had ever processed that he’d left.

“I wish he wouldn’t do that. It spooks me out.” Bambam patted Jackson’s arm softly. 

“I know, hyung. I’m sure he won’t mind if you let him know. I’m sorry I forgot to mention it when I told you I would, but I still can mention it if you’d rather me do it.” Jackson hummed in consideration as they climbed the stairs at a more human pace.

“Does it bother you any? That you walk slowly?” Bambam shrugged before responding.

“It doesn’t usually. But I have the yard to get my energy out. Hybrids get kind of restless if we can’t move around. When I was in the shop, that was all anyone talked about. We didn’t talk in the day, of course. But after hours if anyone ever bothered to say anything, it was always to complain about how we couldn’t move.” Jackson nodded, really thinking about it. He had noticed Bambams need to move, but had categorized it as a Bambam-trait rather than a hybrid one. 

“Okay. I don’t think I’ll say anything until he gets used to the yard, then. He hasn’t been out there, right?” Bambam affirmed with a nod. “Then I won’t bother him about it for now. Maybe I’ll even get used to it.” Bambam smiled and nodded again.

“That’s nice of you, Jackson-hyung. I’ll go ahead and get dressed, okay?” Jackson nodded and tried not to stare at Bambam’s back as he walked away. It felt a little lonely, turning back to his own room and going in without any company. He was really much happier to stay in Bambam’s room than his own.

Sighing, he walked over to his dresser and pulled out some dark sweatpants and a hoodie. The faster he got ready, the faster he wouldn’t have to be alone anyway.

~~~

Jackson kept glancing up at the mirror to check on Mark.

He’d seemed a little antsy to be back outside. Jackson got it. It’d been a while since Mark had left the house, and he didn’t exactly make use of more than a couple of rooms even then.

Mark was wearing another one of Bambam’s shirts, this time a V-neck in dark purple. Mark kept fiddling with the dip of the neckline, and the way the color clashed with his hair wasn’t pleasing to the eye, to say the least. It only made Jackson more determined to get Mark things that were actually his. And also some more stuff for Bambam, so they wouldn't have to find the motivation for a whole other shopping trip.

Bambam was rambling in the passenger seat about all the cool stores in the mall and what all of them had. Mark nodded along in the backseat, clearly paying attention but not having anything to contribute. Jackson almost forgot to take the right hand turn, but remembered at the last second.

Luckily, the trip wasn’t long. The car was parked and Bambam jumped out with an excited shout. Mark’s exit was, of course, much more timid. Jackson had purposefully parked at the entrance closest to the side of the mall with clothing stores for hybrids. He wasn’t entirely sure if he remembered seeing some collars, but he felt like he had.

The parking lot was a little crowded. Jackson’s spot wasn’t very close to the door, and judging by the amount of people milling around outside, this wouldn’t be a nice, empty day for shopping. 

Bambam soldiered on ahead, walking directly and confidentially towards the entrance to the main corridor of the mall. Jackson felt the urge to chase after him, but Mark still hadn’t moved. Jackson gave one last worried glance to where Bambam was walking before approaching Mark.

“Hey, Mark. You good?” Mark looked down, rubbing his arm sheepishly before softly nodding. Jackson wanted to give him a quick hug, but didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he reached over and gave his bony shoulder a brief pat. To his surprise, Mark tried to lean into the touch, shifting forward as Jackson pulled away as if chasing after his hand.

Jackson took that as a sign that it was alright to go ahead and reassuringly rub the elbow of Mark’s hoodie. This time Mark was successful at leaning into the more lingering touch. 

“Is the crowd too much?”, Jackson asked in a soft, hushed tone. Mark furrowed his brows, looking around the area as if trying to gauge just how busy this place actually was.

“I think it’s okay? It’s just a little…” Jackson nodded slowly, trying to encourage Mark to continue his thought, even if it did take him a minute. “It’s just a little… loud.” 

“We can go home if that’s what you need. I don’t mind.” Mark looked around once more but then looked back to Jackson and shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. But we should find Bambamie.” The pet name slipped off Mark’s tongue with apparent ease. Jackson felt like he should feel jealous, but somehow all he really felt was warmth at how the two were getting along.

As if on cue, Bambam came rushing back to where the two stood, lithely moving between the scattered groups of people with the feline delicacy and grace that Jackson still envied. He put a hand on his hip as he looked up at the taller boys, impatience clear on his exasperated face. 

“I know you two are old, but you aren’t that old! We don’t have all day!” Jackson chuckled and looked over at Mark, meeting his eyes directly. The smile on his face and the knowing glint in his eyes let Jackson know they were likely thinking the same thing. 

There was no time limit. They really did have all day. But Bambam was now stamping his foot as if he just couldn't bear to wait another second. Jackson knew the impatience probably stemmed from excitement, especially with the sweet way his silky ears and tail kept twitching. 

“We were just about to start following you, Bam. Come on.” Jackson extended a hand for Bambam to hold, and he latched onto it immediately, cheerfully humming as the pair started walking. Mark walked on Jackson’s other side, tail flicking nervously from side to side.

Jackson wanted to offer his other hand to Mark, but wasn’t sure if it would be accepted. And something about the idea of Mark pulling away from him stirred something deeply unpleasant in his chest.

Jackson forced himself to stop staring at Mark, even if his tail was sleek and fiery red-orange and his face was doll-like and beautiful. He looked forward, directing his steps towards the entrance to the shopping mall. 

His heart lurched when he felt a fleeting touch to his left arm. Instinctively, he wanted to look at Mark, at the boy who was now settling into a loose grip around his forearm. But he didn’t want to spook him from continuing to do so, so he pointedly looked at the door, hoping Mark couldn’t tell how tense he really was from the contact, trying to flippantly act like the touch hadn’t surprised him, hadn’t made his heart beat twice as fast.

Jackson could feel the heat blossom across his cheeks, but he pushed it down with a hard swallow and a bite to his inner cheek.

~~~

“I like this one…” Mark reached on his tiptoes to reach for a collar placed above their heads. It was dark red, with the look of shiny leather. Jackson nodded, taking the collar and putting it into the shopping basket looped in Bambam’s arm. Mark nodded back, making a satisfied hum as he began to amble over towards the clothes.

“We can get your tag made at one of those machines. There’s one right outside here, that’s where we got Bammie’s”, Jackson explained. Mark nodded again and they walked over to the displays of clothes. 

Jackson watched as Bambam held out a dark green sweater to Mark’s chest, saying he had the same one but in a beige color and it was a very warm garment. Mark looked back to Jackson, right eyebrow slightly raised as he held up the sweater. Jackson realized this was a gesture questioning him whether or not the purchase was okay, so he nodded his own approval.

The shopping trip continued much in the same way. Bambam held up articles of clothing, Mark scanned over it. Mark usually looked back to Jackson with the same raised right eyebrow, seeking permission. Occasionally, he vetoed the options by frowning his pink lips and pushing it back towards Bambam. 

Bambam was the only one talking, generally. But still, it was comfortable. The nerves Jackson felt around Mark were dissolving entirely, morphing into a different kind of feeling altogether. Jackson liked Mark’s pleased little smile and hum when he found a hoodie with fleece on the inside and pockets in the front. He liked the way Mark easily linked arms with Bambam. 

More than all the other things, he liked when Mark looked back at him and thanked him with a blinding grin and a soft pat on Jackson’s shoulder.

~~~

Jackson told Bambam he had to let Mark have a turn at being in the passenger seat, and Bambam pouted but complied. The car ended up being full of bags, both in the trunk and the backseat.

Mak had one small bag on his lap, containing a couple of books for his beloved Jinyoung. When Mark saw the mall’s bookstore, he’d shyly asked if he could maybe look around for a gift for his lover. Jackson felt he was in no position to say no to Mark’s first and only direct request, especially when it was something so small as picking out a book. In fact, Jackson told him to go ahead and pick out two. 

Mark twisted the bags in his hands, sweet smile and blushed cheeks gracing his face as the plastic rustled. Jackson wished Mark would smile that way at him too, but he knew for now that content expression was exclusively for Jinyoung. 

Still, Jackson was pleased Mark was making such a happy expression at all. And Mark seemed very happy with all the new things he’d picked. He’d already put a dark blue sweater over his borrowed purple shirt, and his new collar was fastened securely around his neck. He’d also gotten a CD player of his own, and had selected a few American CDs and an English edition of a Harry Potter audiobook, plus a book for intermediate Korean language learning. Jackson had convinced him it was okay to pick out some new fuzzy blankets,even if the bedsheets he already had were “sufficient”. Jackson wanted his room to feel more than sufficient, and with enough reassurance, they left the home goods store with lots of new comfy bedding and pillows.

Bambam chatted loudly about his new CDs and a new pair of red boots he particularly liked the whole way home. Jackson felt a new sort of warmth settle in his stomach at the little sounds Mark made to assure Bambam he was listening. Having both hybrids in the car just felt right. Jackson thought his little family of himself and Bambam was perfect before, and it still was amazing, but adding on Mark made Jackson even happier. He already could tell that Mark’s mellow sort of calm was what really rounded out the group, and he was happy for it. He smiled as they turned onto their street, thinking fondly about how well the three really suited each other.

As they approached their house, Mark noticed the issue first, throwing his ears back and letting out an annoyed hiss. Jackson shifted his eyes towards Mark instinctively, but then Bambam was gasping in the backseat and Jackson snapped his eyes back forward, knowing it was about time to turn into their driveway but unsure of what was bothering his friends so much.

His answer was in the form of a hybrid, standing on their doorstep and bowing stiffly in the direction of their car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think~


	9. Unease

The hybrid's ears were silvery and pale, sticking out proudly from his matching toned short hair. Jackson looked at the new presence incredulously, reaching his hand between the two seats so Bambam could hold it. Mark placed his hand on Jackson’s arm, and for a long moment, the three boys stared at the still bowing hybrid on their porch. 

“I’m assuming neither of you know who the hell that is?”, Jackson questioned. Mark shook his head and Bambam followed suit, making an irritated hum before responding, “I don’t like that a stranger is on our porch and bowing like that. What does he want?” Jackson sighed before shrugging with the arm unattached to the other two.

“I don’t know, Bam. We’ve gotta find out though.” Mark bristled and Jackson moved to stroke his arm gently. “Jeez, the one day we actually leave the house some shit has to go down.”

Jackson got out of the car slowly, but Bambam and Mark immediately jumped out and ran over to the human, both positioned protectively in front of him. The bowing hybrid glanced up at the scene, but did not raise his head. Jackson indicated the others to step closer, and they cautiously made their way up to the porch.

Jackson cleared his throat before speaking, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “Who are you? Don’t you have an owner?”, he questioned.

The hybrid bowed even more deeply before cautiously raising his own head. “Master Wang?” Jackson nodded, even though the title made his skin crawl even more than having to ask about the stranger’s owner. 

The silver haired man bowed again and held his pose while he responded, “You’re my owner, from now on. I hope to serve you well.”

~~~

Jackson faltered back, now grabbing at Bambam’s side. Mark approached the newcomer, a displeased low rumble emanating from his chest.

“Who are you? You can’t really just show up here and say our master is yours!” Jackson used his left hand to grip Mark’s wrist, stroking the exposed skin in an attempt to soothe the riled up boy.

The strange hybrid straightened his back, now looking insulted, if the scowl and drawn silver eyebrows were any indication. However, he still looked to Jackson instead of speaking.

Jackson raised his own eyebrow, He’s cross his arms if he wouldn't have to let go of his friends to do so. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer him?” The new hybrids mouth opened in apparent shock before he recovered himself, shutting his mouth by gritting his teeth as he offered Jackson a folder that had gone previously unnoticed.

“Master Wang, my name is Jaebum, of the impeccable Im line of breeding, as shown in my paperwork. Your family purchased me as a gift to you. I expect you to be fully satisfied with my services.” At this, he shot Mark a smug look. Jackson entirely understood when Mark let out a affronted hiss. He almost felt like hissing, himself.

“Well, I’m sorry to inform you, but I don’t need another hybrid. As you can see, I’ve already got two, and no offense, but I can’t imagine you being any better at giving me what I need than these guys. They’re my family. You can just go back to where you came from and give my family a refund.” 

The new hybrid, Jaebum, frowned a little, shifting back and forth on his feet as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Do you need a ride back to your house?” Jackson asked, trying to assess why the former arrogance had now faded into a look of obvious concern. 

“I… I do not have a house. This,” Jaebum gestured backwards towards Jackson’s front door, “Is my house. My papers clearly state that I belong at his address, they all have your name.” Jackson sighed heavily before responding.

“But I didn’t ask for you to show up? Look, I can call the company you came from and we’ll get this sorted out, okay?” Jaebum shook his head violently, lip wobbling as if he might actually cry.

“But you don’t understand! It’s too late for that. I’ve been waiting here for two hours, which is more than enough time for my purity to be ruined. They won’t take me back, not if there’s a chance I’ve been used. I’ll end up on the streets!” Jackson felt a pang of both anger and pity replace his former annoyance with both Jaebum’s presence and his own family’s meddling.

“Bammie, Mark, is that true? Is that how this works?” Bambam shrugged but Mark nodded before elaborating.

“Most hybrids aren’t returned, but I know the fancy ones can’t be. If someone’s fucked them, they lose their value or some shit like that.” Jaebum’s face shifted from anxiousness to condescension almost instantly, and Jackson was reminded of why he is violently opposed the other’s presence in the first place. Sure, Mark could be a bit blunt, but it was better than beating around the bush in Jackson’s opinion.

“I guess we can talk about it indoors. You can at least stay for a while, we have some space.” Jackson moved to unlock the door, arms around Mark and Bambam’s shoulders. Bambam reached to help him fumble with the key, and the trio stepped into the house. Jaebum followed gingerly indoors.

Bambam immediately took off his collar. Jackson was surprised when Mark didn’t follow suit but decided not to question him on it. Their relationship was still quite tenuous and besides, Jaebum was a new presence, and Jackson could tell it put Mark on edge. 

Mark started to steer them towards the kitchen. Jackson realized the immediate warmth must mean that the heating had mercifully been fixed. He almost chuckled when he realized Mark had also led them to the kitchen when Jinyoung had shown up. It was pretty cute that Mark was somehow considering it either a meeting place or, more likely, a safe place, since it was where he had spent the majority of his time in the house besides his own room.

However, unlike the last time, Mark led them over to the table in the corner that didn’t get much use, as of late. Jackson had a tendency to eat outside with Bambam, and if they had to stay inside, they liked to sit at the breakfast bar. Mark pulled three chairs close together before planting himself in the one on the far right. Jackson knew he was meant to sit in the middle, and so he did, letting Bambam follow after him on his left.

The whole situation felt more and more bizarre. Jaebum stood a few feet from the last remaining chair, positioned directly across from the side Jackson and the others were sitting on. 

“Aren’t you going to sit?”, Jackson offered. Jaebum stiffened and walked over to the empty chair before perching delicately on the edge of the seat. It was silent for a long, tense moment, and Jackson felt more and more like this was turning into an interrogation. Bambam nudged his side, looking at him with those big, green eyes.

“What should we ask him?”, Jackson whispered to Bambam. Bambam bit his lip a little before shrugging. Jackson turned to Mark, who was now staring firmly at his own lap, former temporary boldness lost in the awkward atmosphere.

Jackson realized the entire situation wasn’t doing them any good. He couldn’t think of any relevant questions to ask Jaebum other than what was already discussed outside. 

“Jaebum… Let’s just go over household rules for now. I don’t like being called Master Wang. You can just call me Jackson or Jackson-hyung, whatever. And be nice to Bammie and Mark. If you think you can bully them, you’re out of this house. are we clear?” Jaebum’s facial expression was tight, but he nodded obediently. “Alright, why don’t you two show him around a little? Maybe get something to eat instead if you’re hungry, do whatever you feel is best. I’m gonna make some calls and see what can be done about this.

Bambam nodded and leaned forward to press his lips against Jackson’s cheek. Jackson immediately reacted by wrapping a arm around his waist, pulling him close and dropping a light kiss on his forehead. He turned to Mark and patted his shoulder, trying not to let it show how awkward and nervous initiating contact with him made him feel. Mark smiled and leaned into the touch, and Jackson felt more relieved as he nodded at Jaebum before walking to his office.

His office was one of his least favorite rooms in the house. It was where he handled all the business that made up of the only real unpleasant things left in his life. He was grateful that this was all he had to do, as it was definitely a lot less work and stress than his old lifestyle of juggling several manual labor intensive jobs. Still, he’d never quite gotten the hang of business. He was perfectly happy to leave the majority of it in the hand of his capable assistant, but some things still required his own involvement. 

It also happened to be where he most often took the occasional worried call from relatives. Jackson knew their concerns were more for show than anything else. Their worries were always about Jackson appearing at notable events, or wanting to set him up with women from other wealthy families. He wasn’t very interested in either events or women, so the phone calls were a chore, and thus, were dealt with where all the other unpleasant things were dealt with, in his office.

They’d occasionally nagged at him to get a hybrid, but Jackson wasn’t expecting them to just buy one for him, just like he’d never expected them to forge his signature on marriage documents. Despite feeling little to no connection with his blood family, he couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed by their intrusion.

He steeled himself for the unpleasant call, now wishing he’d dragged Bambam along with him for some moral support. Though, that wouldn't really be fair to the withdrawn Mark, who’d have to supervise Jaebum otherwise. With a heavy sigh, he dialed the number of his uncle, who he figured was the most likely instigator of the whole situation. He tended to be the boss of the rest of the family, besides Jackson, who felt removed enough to not give in to his demands more often than he did.

“Jackson! What a pleasant surprise. I haven’t heard from you in weeks.” Fully intended, Jackson thought. “Speaking of surprises, how do you like our little surprise to you? It’s quite visually appealing, is it not?” Jackson felt affronted by this even further.

“Little surprise?! He’s a hybrid, not a gift basket!” His uncle scoffed at that.

“Well, I will admit, he was a great deal more expensive than a gift basket. You should be grateful, but I sense by your tone that you are not.”

“You’d be correct, uncle. I already have two hybrids. I don’t need another one.” 

“That’s exactly the issue! The hybrids you have, they can’t be taken around and paraded in front of our peers! Do you know what kind of talk your little display at Jeong’’s party started? You showing up with a non-purebred, infantile hybrid. And everyone is talking about how you couldn’t keep your hands off of it. Do with it what you will in your own home, but that is not suitable for public displays. And then we all know about how you bought a used hybrid off that start-up who weaseled his way onto the invite list and took the only hybrid he owned with him, despite his bred purpose.” 

All of his uncle’s rant made Jackson increasingly see red, and he knew asking more would just make him even angrier. But he couldn’t resist the urge to ask him anyway. 

“What exactly do you mean by bred purpose?” His uncle scoffed yet again, and Jackson couldn’t be more tired if that sound.

“Are you going to make me spell out something so vulgar? That hybrid's a toy, Jackson. It’s bred to be used at home, not to just strut about in public with. It’s downright common of that man to bring him outside, but he does not have a name or image to protect. The Wang family does. As such, it is downright unacceptable for you to have bought it off of him. We can do some image control if you start bringing out the new one we selected, pass it off as naivete, since for some godforsaken reason you never would buy one before.”

“So you’re saying you bought this guy because you have some issues with my friends? Wait, don't even answer that. The fact that you keep calling them “it” tells me enough.” Jackson sighed, running his hand backwards through his hair in frustration. “I’m so tired of the bullshit with hybrids, but even if I tell you about how much I care about Bam and Mark, you won’t care, so I’ll save my breath on talking to someone who matters. Just tell me this. Is it true that they won't take Jaebum back now that he’s been here?”

“Of course. Why else would we wait to deliver him until after you’ve finally left your aunt’s house, you ungrateful hermit.” His uncle’s tone was so full of spite, so malicious and angry, and Jackson just wanted to scream. But he knew doing that would just give even more validation to his bull-headed uncle.

“Fine. Have a nice day, uncle.”, he gritted out through his teeth before hanging up the call. He didn’t slam down his cell phone this time, remembering how he’d just gotten the screen fixed at the mall that afternoon from his heated conversation with Mark’s previous owner.

He stood up, wanting to cry but not wanting to show that in front of the others. And it was without a doubt that he needed to find the others. He wanted Bambam, and he knew even a few minutes without getting to him would be too long. Still, he didn’t want to cry, so he leaned against his desk and gripped the sides, focusing on breathing in and out for several mnutes until he’d calmed down.

He walked out of the office and yelled out, “Bambam!”, his voice stretched into a whine. Within seconds, Bambam stood before him, clearly having actually used his hybrid speed to reach Jackson. Jackson stepped forward and engulfed Bambam in an embrace, rocking him back and forth in his arms. Jackson vaguely registered additional footsteps behind him, but he was too intently focused on sniffing the fruity scent of Bambam’s hair.

“Bam, let’s go upstairs?” He felt Bambam nod in his arms, and he finally felt alright enough to step back a little to acknowledge the other people in the room. He kept one arm wrapped around Bambam’s waist as he looked over Mark and Jaebum.

“Sorry, Jackson. I didn’t realize you’d want to be alone with Bammie and thought something might be wrong, and I didn’t want to leave Jaebum there”, Mark apologized. Jackson shook his head.

“It’s okay, Mark. I don’t mind. We should really all be together for a few minutes anyway, I guess. We can just go upstairs in a few minutes. Did you guys take him around the house?” Mark and Bambam shared a look before Bambam spoke up to respond.

“No, we didn’t. We kept him in the kitchen. I microwaved the leftover stir fried veggies and rice, but we haven’t eaten yet.” Jackson nodded, absentmindedly stroking Bambam’s side.

“Well, we can show him around later. For now, he’s going to stay with us.” He turned to Jaebum before continuing. “I’m not going to turn you out on the streets. There are extra rooms upstairs.” Bambam and Mark both bristled at that, and Jackson tried not to sigh. This was stressful enough, and he didn't want to offend the people he cared about.

There was an awkward silence as the group moved into the kitchen. Bambam got out the plates and made two before putting them in front of Jackson, who’d sat in the middle of the breakfast bar. Jackson nudged Mark to sit on his right, but Jaebum claimed the seat to the left before Bambam could sit down. 

Jackson watched Bambam raise an eyebrow, ears flattening against his head. The silky dark fur of his tail was bristled, which Jackson knew meant he was on high alert. Bambam got himself a plate and walked over to the bar, climbing into the seat on the other side of Mark.

Jaebum looked up expectantly and Jackson sighed. He couldn’t force Bambam to make Jaebum a plate. He did it as a courtesy for the others.

“Jaebum, you’re welcome to go get yourself a plate”, Jackson said. Jaebum looked up warily, and Jackson realized his dilemma. If he stood up, Bambam would probably take his place. If he didn’t eat, Bambam would have won the small battle they were currently engaged in.

Jackson was vaguely reminded of people complaining about how territorial cats could be over new houseguests, and, especially, other cats. He’d had a friend in his youngest school days who’d brought a kitten home only to have his older cat scratch the new one hard enough to draw blood. The friend had recounted the story with heavy tears, whining about how his dad made him choose which cat to keep.

His thoughts snapped back to the present as he saw Jaebum shift cautiously. Truthfully, he’d rather sit next to Bambam than Jaebum, but he’d feel better keeping the turf wars to a minimum. 

“Here, Jaebum, I’ll get you a plate. Since it’s your first night in the house and all”, Jackson offered. Jaebum bowed his head down with a smile.

“Thank you very much, Master Wang”, Jaebum thanked. Jackson could feel Mark and Bambam’s scowl behind him, even if he couldn’t see it. He put the rest of veggies and rice on the plate, observing the last remaining serving was a bit small. But it was the best he could do. He poured a glass of water and took the dishes to Jaebum.

Jackson caught a smug smirk Jaebum was directing at the other hybrids, but it was quickly dropped to a sweeter smile when he noticed Jackson. Jackson wrinkled his nose in distaste as he handed over Jaebum’s dinner. If there was one trait Jackson hates, it was dishonesty, and arrogance came in close second.

Bambam’s sweet disposition made up for his occasional cockiness, and he was honest to a fault. Mark was too quiet to really be any kind of arrogant, and he had a raw bluntness about him that put Jackson at ease. Jackson could only hope the other hybrids would wear off on Jaebum.

The tense air in the room didn’t break. Everyone ate, but nobody said anything for a long time. Finally, as Bambam stood up to clear the plates, Mark broke the silence. 

“He can’t have my room”, Mark said while crossing his arms, suddenly looking much younger than he actually was. He wasn’t facing Jackson, instead looking down at the empty plate in front of him. Bambam has paused in clearing the table to listen to Mark.

“Of course not. There’s plenty of room upstairs”, Jackson comforted him with what he thought was the obvious solution. However, Mark rolled his shoulders, still visibly tense.

“Well, I’ve decided I’m moving into the room on the other side of Bambam’s.” Jackson raised an eyebrow. Mark was still tensed, looking down and avoiding meeting Jackson’s eyes. Bambam resumed stacking the plates, taking all four and putting them in the sink. His tail swished back and forth jerkily, as if he was irritated by the whole situation.

“Okay, Mark. Why don’t we unload your new stuff from the car and we’ll just move it into that room instead?” Mark swallowed hard, but nodded stiffly. “Bam, why don’t you help Mark with that and I’ll show Jaebum into a room?” Bambam nodded, but grabbed Jackson into another embrace, rubbing his cheek into the side of Jackson’s neck strongly enough to tickle. Jackson was just about to pull away, trying not to laugh, when Bambam let go himself. He sniffed at Jackson before nodding, looking quite satisfied.

Jackson tilted his head in puzzlement, but Bambam had already taken Mark’s hand and was halfway out the door.

~~~

Both the rooms nearest to Jackson’s were now taken, and Jaebum seemed annoyed with this fact.

“Master Wang, please forgive me for speaking out of turn, but would it not be in both of our best interests for us to share a space? Being in a separate room is improper enough, but you want me to be so far removed from you as this?” Jackson sighed, pressing his hand to his temple.

“First of all, call me Jackson or Jackson-hyung. Second, I don’t know what you’re on about by what’s ‘proper and improper’ but you’re not staying in my room, and Bambam and Mark were given first pick, so that’s that.”

Jaebum gritted his sharp teeth, the sound making an awful grating noise that made Jackson wince. He bowed stiffly to Jackson before replying.

“If that is what you wish.”

~~~

Jaebum stared up at the ceiling, feeling utterly at a loss.

He’d known his placement might be a bit of a challenge from the briefing he was given by his owner’s uncle. His new master inherited a very large sum of money and was the head of Wang industries, but he did not accept input from his relatives. He’d gone years without a hybrid, despite their suggestions, but had suddenly brought a non-purebred underage hybrid to a party.

It was unheard of to do such a thing. Everyone knew the implications of having an obviously underage hybrid. No one brought them out in public if they were so inclined to own one, yet alone to a gathering of high status.

Then, he’d went and done something even worse, buying a used hybrid from a man far below his own station. 

Jaebum had been informed of the situation two weeks ago, almost immediately after his uncle heard about Master Wang’s transgressions. As family, he knew he had to mend the situation as best as he could.

So he bought Jaebum.

Jaebum knew why he was purchased. He was purebred, pedigree going farther back than anyone could truly remember. His silvery hair and fur were proof of his excellent breeding. His fur was sleek, shinier than any common cat’s could possibly be. He was all lean muscle, smooth pale skin, and strong limbs.

He was trained for his role as a primary household hybrid from an early age. His voice was beautiful and true, perfect for entertaining his future master and his or her guests. He could play piano and classically dance. He was well-read in the classics and trained to make intellectual conversation when called upon.

All in all, he was the ideal hybrid for someone like Jackson Wang. 

Truthfully, he’d somewhat expected Master Wang to see him and be immediately smitten and impressed. But it hadn’t been so easy. He’d been rejected by his master, and was only permitted to stay because he was kind enough to want to keep Jaebum off the streets.

Jaebum made a resolution to himself that night, listening to the footsteps coming up the stairs and the laughter of the people involved. He laid down, alone, while he heard the taller hybrid, Mark, get awfully close to his master. Jaebum guessed it was an embrace to say good night. Even with his superb hearing, superior to even most hybrids, it was impossible to definitively tell. 

Jaebum heard the footsteps disappear into the room next to his master’s. 

He heard the other pairs of footsteps, in tandem, go into the room his owner had pointed to as Bambam’s.

Jaebum held back bitter tears when both people settled down into the room, and the bed creaked as they got into it. He wasn’t entirely surprising, considering how heavily the room his master had introduced as Bambam’s smelled of both of their scents. Jaebum wasn’t stupid, by any means. He knew Mark was also aware of this, and thus moved into the available room closest to where his owner slept. Since the master bedroom flanked the other side, Jaebum knew there was no chance of staying there either. 

Of the other two rooms, one had been inhabited by a lowly hybrid for too long, and it smelled of it. As such, he only really had one option, and he disliked the room’s removed location.

He held his breath as he clutched one of the pillows he’d been given to his chest. He would not cry. Hybrids’ hearing was strong enough that if he cried, the other boys would know it. And they could not know Jaebum’s weaknesses.

Jaebum promised himself that it would be him sharing a bed with his master, and the other boys would be the ones to feel as dejected and lonely as him.

He’d do whatever it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like Jaebum's first appearance! Please let me know what you think :) I love to read everyone's thoughts.


	10. Nerves

Jackson rolled over in his bed, reaching to grab for Bambam’s pillow since it was too late for Bambam to be still be sleeping. However, his hand hit something hard instead, cold and kind of round? He grabbed at the unknown object wearily, trying to figure out just what it was.

He finally relented and opened his eyes a little, squinting in case the room was too bright. Looking straight across, he saw a CD player? But it was red, and the red one was Mark’s, not Bambam’s…

Jackson jumped into a sitting position, eyes wide and startled as he finally noticed the other presence in his bed. For his part, Mark looked extremely amused, leaning back on a propped up pillow against the headboard of the bed. His CD player sat to the left of his crossed legs, right where Jackson had run into it.

“Good morning?”, Jackson tried to greet but the questioning tone was evident. Mark smiled and raised a hand to pat Jackson’s shoulder.

“Hi, Jackson. Bambam’s making breakfast so I thought I’d chill out here.” Jackson couldn’t help but feel pleased at that. Mark wanting to spend time with him always made him feel that way.

“Are you listening to anything?”, Jackson asked. He didn’t see any headphones, but then remembered they might look strange on Mark’s cat eats anyhow. Mark nodded.

“It’s my Harry Potter audiobook. I put it as quiet as it would go, so it wouldn’t bother you.” Jackson strained to try and hear it, eventually picking up the CD player and holding the speaker up to his ear. He could finally hear some words, but it still wasn’t entirely clear. Mark laughed at his obvious efforts and Jackson quickly schooled his face into an exaggerated frown, hoping to elicit even more of Mark’s laughs.

It was successful in getting a few more chuckles before Mark calmed down, but he still had a toothy grin that made Jackson feel warm on the inside.

“I was about to wake you up anyway. Bambam said I should wake you at 9:30…”, Mark said. Jackson looked up at the hot pink, cartoon cat adorned digital clock that Bambam had picked out. _9:28_

“Okay, we can go downstairs then?”, Jackson suggested. Mark nodded and shut the power off of his CD player, but left it on the bed. Jackson saw the red hoodie Mark had stole from Bambam and now wore pretty frequently on the foot of the bed too, not that he’d stood up. He kind of wanted to ask about it, curious about Mark leaving his things strewn around when he was typically cautious about keeping what he had bundled into his room, but Mark was already in the doorway, looking back at Jackson with a lazy smile, and Jackson found he really didn’t care all that much anyway. After all, it was probably nothing too important.

~~~

Bambam was taking the plates and food out to the patio table when they came downstairs. Jackson slipped into a pair of slippers and then looked to Mark, hoping he’d do the same. Jackson had put an extra pair next to the patio door as soon as Mark moved in, but he’d never joined Jackson and Bambam’s breakasts before yesterday, and that was spent inside.

Mark looked at the door for a moment and Jackson held his breath, feeling the suspense. But then, Mark toed on the other pair of slippers without any objections. Jackson smiled at him as they moved to start grabbing dishes to help Bambam when a sudden thumping sound interrupted their actions.

Jackson turned to the noise only to see Jaebum, who’d collided his shoulder into the door frame as he’d run into the room. Jaebum froze for a second, color painting his cheeks pink, before scrambling to correct himself. He walked over to Jackson with quick, methodical steps and bowed deeply. 

“Er… You don’t need to do that”, Jackson said. Jaebum maintained the bow for a long few seconds after, and Jackson heard one of the other hybrids sigh from their spot a few feet behind him.

“Master Wang, as always, it is my great honor to serve you. What can I do for you this fine morning?” Jaebum asked. His formal, clipped tone combined with the title Jackson always resented just gave him a bit of a headache. He was tempted to tell Jaebum the best way to serve him would be to just go back to his room. But then, Jackson didn’t really want to be that mean. Grumpy words stemming from annoyance and morning blahs could still cut deeply, and that wasn’t what Jackson was out to do.

“You can start by stopping the whole ‘Master’ business. Just Jackson or Jackson-hyung is fine. And then you can help Bambam set up breakfast, like me and Mark are doing.” 

Jaebum bristled a bit at the start of Jackson’s response, but seemed pleased with at least being given a task. He approached the table and picked up the bowl of fruit and the clear jug of orange juice. However, the other hybrids looked less than pleased at his presence. Mark even walked back to the table and picked up the stack of cups, in addition to the plates and carton of milk he was already carrying. 

Jackson could tell something about the action was deliberate, almost a challenge. Mark turned around and walked out the door, and Bambam followed. Jackson sighed as Jaebum turned back to the table, expression clearly offended. He grabbed the serving dish of eggs and the tray of sausages, now precariously holding four items as he wobbled out the door.

Jackson observed wearily as he carried what was left onto the patio table. Jaebum, thankfully,managed to avoid dropping the food. Mark and Bambam both looked just as upset as if he had, though. It was clear that Jaebum had not accepted Mark’s play for a tiny bit of one-upping, and they both seemed to resent it. Jackson understood, he really did. He got exhausted with people who just _always_ had to be the best at everything too. 

Jackson sat where he normally did, and Mark sat on the side of the table to his right, clearly seeing that Bambam was walking towards his usual spot on the left. Only, Bambam never made it to his spot. One second, it was empty, and the next, Jaebum was sitting in it.

Mark audibly gasped, and Jackson instinctively turned to him only to see his ears flat against his head and his tail bristled up. Jackson pushed his hand over to Mark, petting his wrist from behind as he turned back to look at the other two hybrids.

Bambam looked surprised, but he wasn’t hissing. Even the surprise vanished after a second, being replaced with a look that seemed calm at their surface. But Jackson knew Bambam more than anyone, and he knew that expression only cropped up when Bambam was planning something. It was the kind of look he had before Jackson would go to sit down and end up sitting on a water balloon, or go to the kitchen and scream when he saw a massive spider that was really just a clever sculpture Bambam made out of the clay Jackson had bought for him.

In other words, that look in his eyes was trouble.

Jackson was just about to try and tell Jaebum to move, since that was obviously where Bambam was going to sit. Maybe even throw in a ban on the hybrid speed Jaebum had just used to get in the spot, since it gave Jaebum an unfair edge as Bambam avoiding using it to make Jackson more comfortable. But he didn’t get the chance to before Bambam waltzed over, cocky smile and confident flick of the tail making Jackson feel both a little excited and a little dubious. Bambam leaned over, putting his face inches away from Jackson’s, before leaning closer and kissing his cheek.

Bambam’s lips against his cheek was more distracting than he’d have liked it to be. Bambam smelled really good, and his lips were so soft, and then he was climbing onto Jackson’s lap and nuzzling into his neck and the breath left Jackson’s lungs entirely. Something in the back of his head was screaming this level of affection wasn’t exactly appropriate with Jaebum and Mark a few feet away, but it felt so nice and left him feeling more like soft goo than the human being he actually was.

Bambam gave him one more quick peck on the cheek before turning around, still perching on Jackson’s lap. He moved a bit over to the left, mostly settling on Jackson’s knee.

“Mark, can you pass me over my silverware?” Bambam asked. Jackson was hit with the realization that Bambam was going to stay exactly where he was, but he couldn’t say he minded. When it was just the two of them in the house, they’d been like this often. They still were, when Mark was living with them but staying in his room. Jackson had wondered a little about when or if Bambam would start initiating this again, and all he really felt was relief that it wouldn’t actually stop. 

Jackson wrapped his left arm casually around Bambam’s waist. Bambam started putting food on Jackson’s plate, piling it up since both of them were now eating off of it. Mark took the cue and started gathering his own food, but Jackson noticed that Jaebum wasn’t. Instead, Jaebum was staring at Jackson, or Bambam, or maybe both. Jackson looked at him pointedly, eyebrow raised. 

“Jaebum, are you not going to eat?” Jackson asked. Jaebum stiffened, arms crossed a bit petulantly.

“You did not give me permission to eat yet, Master Wang. I do not act brashly by disobeying you.” 

“How could you disobey me when I never told you not to?”

“That’s exactly it, Master. The lack of an invitation is clearly as true as any spoken order, letting me know it is improper to dine. You can trust me to be aware of this, as I am ever obedient to you.” Jackson wanted to just grimace and stomp off, but now Bambam was holding a forkful of eggs in front of his mouth, so he opened obediently, thinking out his response as he chewed on his eggs.

“That may be the way it was where you grew up but that’s not how we live in this house, and you’re going to have to start getting used to it. If I don’t want you to do something, I’ll tell you, otherwise do what you want. And I’m not trying to make you go along with that whole obedience mindset, but I’ve got to remind you that one of the only things I’ve asked you to do is stop calling me ‘Master’, and you still won’t do it. So if you really wanted to make me happy, I’d appreciate it a lot if you stopped doing that. I don’t like it.”

Jaebum’s posture was even more tense, ears twitching flat against his head. It looked at if his instinct was to flatten them, but he was trying to fight the urge. Bambam fed Jackson another forkful of eggs, and Jackson happily accepting being babied.  
Still, the awkward atmosphere never left the table. Bambam was the only person who seemed truly unaffected, making pleased sounds with Jackson’s acceptance of his affectionate gestures and shooting both Mark and Jackson pleasant smiles. Mark and Jaebum were still eying each other from across the table, and it was obvious that neither hybrid was feeling exactly comfortable or pleased.

It was awkwardly silent even as the group cleared the table, with the only audible sound being the clanking of plates and silverware being stacked and gathered up. Bambam started humming a Miss A song, but instead of breaking the chilly mood, it only served to intensify how stiff everyone else remained.

~~~

After breakfast, Mark rubbed Jackson’s shoulder and glared one last time at Jaebum before clambering up the stairs. Jackson sighed as he left. He’d been hoping to spend some more time with Mark today but he didn’t want to disturb Mark’s space, so he silently let him go.

Jackson raised an eyebrow at Bambam, rolling his left shoulder back towards the kitchen. Of course, Bambam knew that this meant “ _Do you want to go outside?_ ” It was something Jackson used to accompany with the actual phrase, but they’d settled enough into their routine that words became a bit unnecessary. Bambam nodded enthusiastically with a big smile, grabbing Jackson’s hand and pulling him along.

They both kept a pair of actual shoes near the doorway. Jackson made a mental note to either order Mark a pair specifically for outside or to pick out a pair and bring them downstairs. Hopefully the Jaebum situation would cool down enough for Mark to feel comfortable joining them soon.

Jackson was about to open the sliding glass door that led to the patio when another voice came up behind him.

“Which shoes should I use?”, Jaebum asked. His voice and presence were both so unexpected that Jackson let out an undignified yelp. He felt heat rise up in his cheeks, as he was feeling both aggravated by Jaebum’s unwanted attention and embarrassed that he was startled by a simple question.

“Can you not sneak up on me like that?” Jaebum frowned and looked down timidly, and Jackson suddenly regretted how harsh his response had come out. Jackson reached forward to awkwardly pat Jaebum’s shoulder, and the hybrid's head snapped back up at the contact. “Um.. That was a bit snappy. I’m sorry.” Jaebum smiled and Jackson thought his smile was actually pretty cute. If only he’d really smile more often than he smirked.

“Of course that’s alright!” Jaebum responded, still wearing a big grin.

“Er… You can either go get the shoes you came here in or you can wear some slippers..”, Jackson said. He looked down at Jaebum’s feet and felt a rush when he suddenly remembered that while he’d put a pair of slippers downstairs for Mark, he’d entirely neglected to do the same for Jaebum. Jaebum didn’t seem to mind much, twitching his tail happily as he ran to get his shoes. Jackson was grateful he didn’t do it at full hybrid speed, but he was still pretty quick, returning with the shiny black shoes he’d arrived in.

Jackson was still lost in thought as they went outside. Bambam ran straight for the swing, shouting happily as he jumped onto the seat. Jackson normally would smile encouragingly at Bambam’s happiness, but he was pretty distracted. He made his way over to the wooden bench facing the tree Bambam was under and sat down, tapping his foot as he really thought about it.

Jaebum probably wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. Jackson knew how people viewed the idea of “used” hybrids, and he didn’t want Jaebum to face those kinds of horrors. He knew, realistically, that it happened to hybrids often, but this was different. Jackson was the one who decided Jaebum’s fate, and he hated that this huge obligation was thrust on him. 

Looking at Jaebum stretch his arms out a few feet away, he knew it wasn’t Jaebum’s fault. But he still kind of resented him for it. Jackson knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but he still felt it anyway. Jackson’s life could have been so happy and peaceful, just him and Mark and Bambam, living in the kind of warm household Jackson had always longed for.

Instead, Jackson was responsible for someone he never would have chosen to have in his life. It felt heavy, like a burden that Jackson could never be able to shake while maintaining a good conscience. He couldn’t think of a way to separate himself from Jaebum without putting the other in danger, and he honestly didn’t want that.

Jaebum being here changed so many things, beyond the obvious shift in the comfort of Jackson’s little family. Jackson realization about Jaebum’s lack of outside shoes made him realize a slew of other things he was missing, like different sets of clothes and a collar. And he’d probably need some things to keep himself occupied. 

Jackson sighed heavily as he realized this would mean yet another trip to the mall. 

Bambam was beside him in seconds, putting a soft hand on his cheek as he leaned forward and looked into Jackson’s eyes.

“What’s the matter, hyung? You aren’t being any fun right now at all,” Bambam said in a soft voice that sent a shiver down Jackson’s spine. He reached out his hand and wrapped his palm around Bambam’s waist.

“It’s nothing, Bammie. We can talk about it later.” Jackson felt keenly aware of Jaebum’s eyes trained on them, knowing his hearing was excellent enough to hear even if Jackson whispered as quietly as he was humanly able. Bambam stared into his eyes, searching for an answer. Jackson twitched his head the tiniest bit to the side, trying to indicate they weren't alone, and he saw the realization go through Bambam’s light green eyes. 

“Alright, hyung.” Bambam relaxed onto his lap, snuggling into Jackson’s shoulder. “Do you wanna play catch? Or we can kick the ball around some?” Jackson wrapped his arms around Bambam’s torso, content with just sitting still in the comfort of his favorite person in the world.

“Sure, Bam. Let’s do that in a few minutes.” Bambam giggled happily, and Jackson couldn’t help but beam back at him. His happiness was infectious.

As they got up to find Bambam’s favorite shark-adorned bouncy ball, Jackson thought that things must not be so bad. Sure, he had to deal with Jaebum in his house… But he still had Bambam. And nobody, even his no-good, stuck-up family, could take that away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is ready much faster than the previous ones~ Please let me know what you think! I love to read your comments :)


	11. Storm

The slight breeze felt nice to Jackson, but Mark shivered, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Jackson was in the mood for a nice, calm walk around the neighborhood before dinner, so he’d asked Mark to accompany him while Bambam was busy cooking. 

“Do you want my jacket?” Jackson offered. Mark frowned, shaking his head, but he still ran his palms over his arms as if trying to rub some warmth into his skin.

“Are you sure? I don’t really need it. I just brought it because it matches my pants.” Mark scanned over his outfit, as if he was verifying the truth behind it. Jackson scoffed, now crossing his own arms.

“Why would I lie about it? I really don’t need it. It just came with the sweatpants and they were together on the hanger.” Jackson shrugged out of the lightweight, soft jacket and tried to push it into Mark’s hands. He wasn’t entirely successful, as Mark’s arms were still crossed over hs chest, so it was really more of Jackson pushing it into Marks torso.

Mark’s ears flattened and for a moment, Jackson’s heart lurched as he realized he might have pushed too hard. However, Mark snacthed the garment out of Jackson’s hands with a huff, draping it over his arms as he crossed them again.

Well, it wasn’t exactly what Jackson was aiming for, but it was a start.

They walked down the rest of the street in silence. Mark seemed fine with it, now relaxed and peacefully glancing around at his surroundings, but for Jackson, silence was almost inevitably awkward. He needed some sort of noise to fill the space.

That was one of the things Jackson liked the most about Bambam. When he wasn’t chattering away (which was most of the time), he was singing or humming to himself. He also always tended to be moving around; he could barely exist without dancing, jumping around, or skipping through the house, which always seemed to generate quite a bit of background noise. 

Jackson knew Mark wasn’t exactly like Bambam, and he didn’t expect him or want him to be anyway. Still, the silence was growing a bit too heavy, so Jackson tried to break it.

“So, what have you been up to all day? If you don’t mind me asking.” Mark shook his head slightly, reassuring Jackson he wasn’t being too nosy.

“Crafts,” was Mark’s simple response. Jackson squirmed, hoping for more information than _that_.

“What kind of crafts? Did Bammie give you some of his clay?” Mark shook his head again, wrapping Jackson’s jacket tightly around his arms as he did so. 

“I like to make things out of paper.” Mark stopped speaking, but somehow Jackson could tell he wasn’t quite finished yet so he stayed silent. “Jinyoungie would teach me how, on days where we both had free time. And now I like to figure out more shapes to fold on my own.”

“Folded paper? Like origami?” Mark shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s properly origami? But it’s fun.” Jackson nodded as he thought over it, trying to envision what Mark was actually doing.

“Do you need any supplies for that? We could go to a craft store. Or we could order some online. I need to get more used to ordering things online. We never had the internet when I was a kid and I always forget I can shop there, but I was just thinking about how Jaebum’s gonna need a lot of shit and I don’t feel like going back to the mall.” Mark nodded, biting his lip as he processed what Jackson had said and thought over it. Jackson felt his heart lurch forward in his chest at how good Mark’s bottom lip looked when it was pinned down by his sharp teeth.

“I guess we could order some things. Shopping isn’t really my favorite thing either,” Mark replied.

“Okay, we can do that after dinner.” They were quiet for a number of steps before Mark spoke again.

“I had to borrow some sticky notes to fold today. Is that okay? I took them from the supply room upstairs.” 

“Yeah, of course that’s okay! I trust you to take whatever you need. I know you’re not going to just go in and waste everything in the house.” Mark smiled at him for that, and Jackson just had to smile back. Something about Mark’s smile was extremely infectious. 

It only took a moment for Mark’s happy expression to fade into a more concerned one. His shoulders tensed a bit and his arms moved from loosely holding Jackson’s jacket to gripping it tightly as they crossed his chest.

“What’s bothering you? Are you still cold, because you could totally just put the jacket on…” Mark shook his head gently, averting his eyes to the side. He didn’t say anything for at least a full minute.

“Jaebum… You said he needed things? Does that mean he’s really going to stay?” The apprehension on Mark’s face made Jackson’s heart squeeze uncomfortably in his chest. He rubbed his own wrist, trying to release some of the ache caused by Mark’s unhappiness.

“I don’t have any other choice right now, Mark. It’s not like I want him to stay. He’s fucking exhausting, always trying to one-up you and Bam. You know, today he couldn’t even play around with us outside like a normal person? He spent the entire time showing off, trying to do everything better than Bambam. Bambam knows a new girl group dance, Jaebum showed me some classical, boring shit. Bambam tries a new trick with the ball, Jaebum copies him and ends up launching the ball over the fence. And the look on his face when I asked him to get it! Like he’d won the lottery or something. It’s fucking creepy when someone is so desperate to be told what to do. I hate it.” 

Mark’s ears had been alert and twitching throughout Jackson’s venting, and Jackson had to stifle the urge to reach out and pet him.

“You know, Mark, the worst thing about all of this is that it makes you and Bambam unhappy. I could deal with the rest, but seeing you guys sad makes me feel miserable…”

Mark shuffled over his feet, cheeks flushed red. Jackson felt heat rise to his own cheeks at the sight. He’d seen Mark blush before, but only when it concerned Jinyoung, and something in him was deeply pleased that something he’d said had caused this reaction. After all, by this point Mark had made Jackson blush more times than he could even count.

Really, Mark could make Jackson blush just by existing, but Jackson was more than willing to make the extra effort to get some of those blushes returned. 

Mark shivered hard as the wind picked up again. Jackson glanced around at a few stray blowing leaves, surprised to see that it was getting dark. They must have been walking for at least half an hour.

“Mark, should we go ahead and turn around and walk back? Dinner will probably be ready soon, and I don’t want to make Bam upset. And if it gets cold, he’ll probably be more than a little upset at us.” Mark nodded and turned around, shrugging into Jackson’s jacket as he did so. Mark was so fluid with his movements, so cool doing even the simplest things. Jackson forced himself to look away and take a deep breath in an effort to still his beating heart.

They walked down the street they were currently on in silence, but when they turned onto the next one, Mark cleared his throat to speak.

“If you don’t want him here, then why...?” Mark trailed off uncomfortably, eyes looking to the houses they were walking past instead of at Jackson. He didn’t clarify what he was asking about, but he didn’t have to. Jackson knew.

“Jaebum needs a place to stay, and he’d my responsibility now. As much as I wish that wasn’t true, it still is. I can’t just put him out on the streets, Mark, I just can’t.” Mark nodded, chewing his lip again as he thought.

“I kind of knew that already. It’s just who you are, Jackson. I kind of knew that the first night I met you. You trusted Bam about something as big as letting me stay in your house, and you even paid for me to do that… And then you let Jinyoungie see me, and I knew for sure.” 

Jackson knew he should say something, but he felt that familiar choke in his throat that meant he was far too close to shedding tears. Mark wasn’t a big talker, and hearing those words leave his mouth was a lot to handle.

Mark seemed to realize Jackson needed _something_ , in spite of the lack of actual words exchanged, as he kept staring at his friend, looking like he wanted to say something. But he never did. Instead, he looped his arm through Jackson’s, leaning slightly into his side. Jackson took the small invitation, moving to wrap his arm around Mark’s thin shoulders and pulling him a little bit closer.

The silence this time wasn’t uncomfortable, even for Jackson. He swallowed the choke in his throat, and if Mark saw a couple of tears roll down his cheek, he didn’t say a word about it.

~~~

Mark pat his shoulder and smiled at him when they got home, before turning to go upstairs before dinner. Jackson instinctively strayed to the kitchen, feeling a rather strong urge to see Bambam.

Bambam was facing the stove, stirring something in a pot. Jackson crept up behind him, knowing fully that Bambam could certainly hear him if he was paying any amount of attention, and that he was probably allowing Jackson to sneak up on him anyway.

Jackson reached for Bambam, stretching out his arms and wrapping them around Bambam’s torso from behind, pulling him into a hug. The lack of a startled reaction validated Jackson’s earlier theory about how Bambam always was just letting him think he could be sneaky. But that was okay, Jackson still appreciated the act of Bambam letting him.

Jackson sighed slightly, nuzzling down into Bambam’s shoulder. Bambam just leaned back into him, stroking where Jackson’s arms were wrapped around his stomach.

Bambam suddenly tensed, and Jackson pulled away to see his ears straight up and tail wagging jerkily, almost angrily. Jackson’s brows furrowed, as he was about to ask what was wrong. 

He didn’t end up having to ask. A blur of red entered the room, crashing into the pair of them. Jackson was now faced with an armful of Mark. Mark who was... Crying?

Bambam rubbed Mark’s side, giving Jackson a pointed look. Jackson felt helplessly confused, but wrapped his arms tightly around Mark all the same. Mark was shaking, sobbing so hard there was no way he could talk. Still, Jackson had to try.

“Mark, what’s happened? You were fine when we got home.” Mark didn’t even pull back from Jackson, instead burying his face into his neck and rubbing his cheek back and forth, still choked on his tears. Jackson looked to Bambam for some guidance, but he seemed even more tense and annoyed than before, staring at where Mark was nuzzling into Jackson.

Jackson hugged Mark and rocked him from side to side, pressing the side of his forehead to Mark’s as he hummed out comforting words. Mark didn’t seem all that soothed, even as he pulled away. He choked on another sob, rubbing his palms at his eyes to try and clear away his tears.

“Jaebum, he…” Mark started crying again, as Jackson’s stomach dropped. 

“Jaebum? What the hell did he do now?” Jackson questioned, in a more accusing voice than he would’ve aimed for on any other day. He instantly regretted how Mark seemed to flinch from the harsh tone, but what was said was said,

It took Mark another long moment before he was able to speak.

“He.. He went in my room. He trashed it. He-” Mark broke off again, tears flooding his eyes. Jackson felt a surge of protectiveness for Mark, and a blind rage coursed through him as he listened to Mark sob. He wrapped his arms around him again, pushing his hands down to his thighs to lift him up. Mark didn’t question the action, instead lifting his own legs and wrapping them around Jackson to make it easier. He wrapped his arms around Jackson’s neck, leaning his head over his shoulder.

It wasn’t easy for Jackson, by any means. Unlike Bambam, Mark was actually taller than him, if only by a bit. And carrying Bambam still wasn’t exactly painless. Still, Jackson was both bulkier than either hybrid and was fueled by his own adrenaline, angry beyond words at whatever Jaebum had done to Mark’s room to make him this distraught.

Climbing up the stairs proved even harder, with Jackson’s general lack of grace paired with the boy in his arms, but he managed to stumble up them and into Mark’s room. He set Mark down as they walked through the door, still keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders protectively. 

Jackson looked around the room and gasped at the sight. Bambam, who had turned the stove off and followed them up the stairs, hissed as a reflex.

Mark was right when he said the room was trashed. His clothes were strewn out all over the room, drawers pulled open and left that way. One of his new blankets was on the foot of the bed, in tatters, ripped to shreds. There was a pair of gashes in one of Mark’s throw pillows.

Mark started crying all over again as he walked over and picked up a shoe box a few feet away.

Jackson saw what looked like letters, but he couldn't understand the English letters that made up most of the pages. Only, they were ripped. Not entirely to shreds like the blanket, but the message was clear. Even if they could be pieced back together, there would always be the visible scar of this incident; it couldn’t be hidden with clear tape. It would always be a reminder of _this_.

“Jinyoungie…” Mark whimpered out, and Jackson understood. The letters must be from Jinyoung. Jackson felt sick to his stomach. Mark clutched the box to his chest, crying some more.

Bambam paced over to where a bunch of colorful pieces of paper were littered across the floor. Jackson switched his attention to what Bambam was doing, choosing to also look at the little squares. At first glance, Jackson thought they were pieces of the torn letters, but a closer inspection proved otherwise.

They were sticky notes, with visible creases all over them. Jackson quickly realized that they must be what Mark had been working on earlier that day. His time and efforts were now wasted, and Jackson felt even angrier. Waste always made him angry, but what really affected him was the way Mark was still sobbing behind him.

Jackson turned his attention back to Mark, who was now holding another sheet of paper that had obvious creases. It was bigger than the others, and a pastel purple sort of color. It must have been folded a long while, because the places with the crease lines were faded white, as if the pressure of keeping its shape had leached the color right out if it. Jackson realized with a start that Mark was no longer crying, now staring at the paper, eyes glassy and mouth wide open.

His expression told Jackson that whatever this paper had been, its destruction was worse than anything else. The absolute anguish that took over Mark’s face was more revealing than any amount of tears would ever be.

Jackson approached Mark and he flinched back, red ears so flat they disappeared into his matching hair. Silent tears were now streaming down his face.

“Mark, Mark, it’ll be okay… He’s not going to get away with this.” Mark looked almost like he didn’t believe him, but he still wanted to trust him anyway. Something in his eyes was wary, but the way he crawled back into Jackson’s arms made Jackson feel like Mark just might believe him.

“Mark, let’s go to the car, okay? We’ll go for a ride.” Mark didn’t react one way or the other, face unchanged as he looked into Jackson’s eyes. “Bammie, can I talk to you outside for a minute?” Bambam nodded, but looked apprehensively at Mark, as if he wasn’t quite sure about leaving him. “Mark, stay here… We’ll only take a minute, and then I’ll come back and get you.” Mark still didn’t say a word. Jackson sighed, but reached out and rubbed the back of Mark’s neck before quietly exiting the room and dragging Bambam into Jackson’s old room, pulling him into the private bathroom and shutting the door.

“Exactly how good is hybrid hearing? Can they hear us from here?” Jackson asked in a whisper.

“They probably can’t hear us if we’re quiet. Let’s whisper to be safe. I don’t know much about how well purebreds like Jaebum can hear.” Jackson nodded before continuing.

“I’m going to take Mark to Jinyoung’s house. I’ll talk to Jinyoung's owners. They didn’t sound like terrible people, maybe they’ll let me bring Jinyoung home or let Mark stay over there for a couple of hours or something. I’ll bring my wallet in case I can pay them off somehow, but I think he needs him. This shit is out of our hands, I think it’s out of everyone’s hands besides Jinyoung’s.” Bambam nodded, reaching out his hand to grip onto Jackson’s and intertwine their fingers.

“Let me scent mark you a little first. Jinyoung might be pissed if you go to his house smelling as much like Mark as you do now.” Jackson tilted his head, puzzled at what he meant. Bambam wrinkled his nose, clearly not looking forward to explaining.

“Look, I’ll explain more later, but it’s a thing cat hybrids do. We have scent glands here-” Bambam used his free hand to point at his cheeks “-and we use them to mark things we like, which includes people. It makes us feel safe, to have what we love most smelling like us. Mark was scent marking you to death earlier, when he came downstairs. Remember, how he kept rubbing his cheek into your neck? Hybrids don’t like when people they consider theirs smell so strongly of other people, for the most part. So, Jinyoung will expect you to smell a bit like Mark, but he’ll probably expect you to smell more like me. It definitely makes you less of a threat if you reek of a hybrid that isn’t Jinyoung’s, it shows you let another hybrid claim you as theirs, so it gives him little to worry about.”

Jackson was absolutely fascinated at the thought. Hybrids really were so different in some ways, even if Jackson tended to forget about those differences most of the time. The only thing Jackson could ever smell on anyone in the house was the fruity smell that clung to Bambam, and Jackson knew for a fact that the scent came from a combination of his shampoo, soap, lotion, and body spray. The brightly colored bottles that had by now invaded Jackson’s bathroom made that much obvious: He couldn’t smell anything else, and he definitely couldn't tell that he himself now smelled like Mark.

“So I normally smell like you? To other hybrids?” Bambam nodded.

“On any given day lately, you smell like 80% me, maybe 20% Mark, at most. Today it's the other way around. You went on a walk with Mark and then he actually went and marked you. Let me go ahead and do it, we don’t have all day here.” Jackson nodded, and he felt the sudden urge to tilt his head to the side to give Bambam better access, so he did.

Bambam giggled at him for his efforts, but wasted no time in rubbing his cheeks over Jackson’s neck, hard enough to sting a little. He nosed his way down to Jackson’s collarbones, pulling down his shirt to give himself access to Jackson’s bare skin. Jackson tried his best to look away, if only to maintain some degree of calm, but he just couldn't avert his gaze. It was almost hypnotizing, watching Bambam, and something about the idea of both Bambam and Mark claiming him made Jackson feel almost unbearably warm.

He ended up closing his eyes entirely, trying too hard not to blush but knowing he was failing. He was startled into snapping his eyes open by a quick sting of pain on the left side of his neck. 

“Did you just bite me...?” Bambam looked at him and nodded slightly, eyes sort of glassy and lips slightly swollen. Jackson was struck with a sudden longing for Bambam to do it again, but he felt like he could never actually say that, so he kept quiet instead.

Bambam shook his head and jumped a bit, seemingly snapping back into reality. “I’m sorry, hyung! I just zoned out for a little. But it’s not really such a bad thing. Bites are a clear claim, and they smell kind of a lot.” Bambam took a long whiff and nodded approvingly. “Here, you can wear my sweater.” He shrugged out of it before Jackson could protest. Luckily, it was way oversized for Bambam, so it wouldn't be too awfully tight. And it was a plain cream color rather than some of the more outlandish things Bambam owned.

Jackson pulled off his own shirt and pulled Bambam’s on. Bambam sniffed the shirt Jackson had taken off and wrinkled his nose, dropping it to the ground.

“It smells more like Mark than you. And a tiny bit of Jaebum. I don’t want it.” Jackson nodded and looked to the door, anxious to check on Mark.

“Bam, I’d take you with me, but I don’t trust Jaebum to be alone in the house. Can you maybe clean up Mark’s room a bit? That way he’ll have somewhere to sleep when we get back.” Bambam shook his head defiantly, crossing his scrawny arms across his bare chest.

“Mark’s not going to sleep there anymore, and Jaebum knows it. He scent marked it up. Like, the room seriously reeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if he bit and spit on everything he could, or he at the very least rolled around like everywhere. Even the floor smells like him. It needs a professional deep clean, I don’t think I could get that smell out and I don’t know if anyone could, to be honest. I don’t know if I can even go in there. That’s why I hissed when we went in earlier, it just smells awful. I have no idea how he managed to make it that bad without me hearing anything, but he did a _lot_ of damage.” Jackson frowned, rubbing his temple with his fingers.

“God, this just fucking sucks. He can’t just do this shit. My first priority is getting Mark out of there, especially now that I know that, but I’m just letting you know, I’m calling a lawyer when I get home. There’s got to be some way to sort this out, but Jaebum just can’t stay here, not after this. He’s threatening my family, and it’s not okay, not at all.” Bambam leaned forward and kissed Jackson’s cheek, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“I’m relieved you said that, but I figured you would. You’re not the type to just let something like this happen. I know you too well to think you would.” Jackson nodded before burying his head into Bambam’s shoulder. It felt a little weird, since Bambam’s shoulder was kind of clammy and bare, but it still was soothing on a basic level.

“Hyung, I’d love to just go snuggle down with you in one of our beds, but Mark really shouldn’t stay in there any longer. I think taking him to Jinyoung-hyung is a good idea.” It took a lot of effort for Jackson to pull away, but one thought of the look on Mark’s face as he held that purple piece of paper was all he needed to think about. He pressed his lips to Bambam’s forehead before turning and marching off to Mark’s room.

Mark needed Jinyoung, so Jackson would do anything to get them together. After all, Mark wasn’t just some obligation. Mark was family, and Jackson would do anything to never see him make an anguished expression ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's angsty, but don't lose hope for Jaebum- this is as bad as it gets for him. Please let me know what you think! I love to hear your thoughts :)


	12. Boiling Point

The car ride to Jinyoung’s house seemed to take forever. 

Mark was still crying while he sat in the passenger seat, desperately clutching the purple piece of paper that had upset him so much. Jackson hadn’t told him where they were going yet. He wasn’t sure if it would make Mark feel better, or if it would only make the wait as unbearable for Mark as it was for Jackson.

Besides, he wasn’t even sure if Jinyoung’s ‘owners’ would let them see each other.

Jackson knew next to nothing about them, other than that they didn’t abuse Jinyoung and left him alone, for the most part. A bit neglectful, maybe, but they didn’t sound awful.

Still, Jackson didn’t personally know anyone who treated hybrids like he did, and he wasn’t sure how they’d react of finding out about Jinyoung and Mark’s relationship.

Jackson had been thinking about paying them a visit, anyway. Alone, or maybe with Bambam. Jinyoung and Mark needed to see each other, at least occasionally. He wanted to see if they could talk it out and arrange some times they could get the two together. 

Of course, these plans had been far less urgent than their current predicament. There wasn’t time for all those formalities when Mark just couldn’t stop crying. Every sob from him drove another crack into Jackson’s own heart, and despite his best efforts, Jackson couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping his own eyes.

Jackson had to pull himself back together quickly, because they were getting awfully close to Jinyoung’s house. Jackson glanced over to Mark, but he didn’t seem to notice where they were, too busy weeping uncontrollably to see his surroundings. With all those tears, Jackson doubted Mark could even open his eyes and see clearly if he tried, especially with the darkness of night lowering visibility. 

Mark finally at least tried to open his eyes when Jackson pulled into the driveway, slowing their car to a stop. Jackson unbuckled his own seatbelt and reached to unbuckle Mark’s too, because Mark had been too distracted to buckle himself in when they got in the car. 

This time, however, Mark didn't need Jackson’s help. He clearly had finally recognized what Jackson was trying to do and unbuckled himself quickly, slamming open the door and jumping out of the car. Jackson rushed to follow suit. 

It was good to rush, in a way. It didn't allow Jackson to dwell on how nervous he felt about talking to these strangers. He used to be good with talking to people, but he felt out of practice with spending so much time alone before meeting Bambam. And after, he’d talked mainly to Bambam and Mark, not _new_ people. 

Jackson rung the doorbell as Mark shook with little sobs beside him. He reached out and wrapped an arm around Mark’s shoulders, and the hybrid easily leaned back into Jackson’s warmth. 

The door swung open slowly, almost cautiously, revealing a petite woman in a bathrobe and lounge pants.

“Can I help you?,” she asked. Mark started crying even more loudly again and Jackson tried to pat him comfortingly while still keeping his arm wrapped around him.

“Um… Yes. My name is Jackson Wang, I’m from Wang Industries, I don't know if you've heard of it. My hybrid knows your hybrid? Can he just see him for a little bit? He's upset.” The woman’s face grew even more incredulous, scanning both of them up and down. She looked like she was about to respond when she was interrupted by Jinyoung himself, sprinting to the door. 

“Mark?! What happened?!” Jinyoung asked, hurriedly stepping out onto the porch and taking Mark from Jackson’s arms. Mark wrapped his arms tightly around Jinyoung’s waist, burying his face into his neck as he cried. 

Jackson felt awkward, staring at them interact. Their intimacy was obvious; Mark had almost collapsed into Jinyoung’s embrace. Jinyoung was swaying them back and forth, softly singing soothing words under his breath, quietly enough that Jackson could barely tell he was doing it. 

It felt like something Jackson shouldn't be watching, too private for prying eyes. Instead, he shifted his gaze back to the woman who was still standing in the doorway. 

Somehow, she looked even more awkward than Jackson felt, shoulders squared and tensed. 

“I suppose the two of you should come into the house for a while?,” the woman asked. Jackson nodded before responding.

“Thanks, I appreciate that more than you know.”

~~~

If it were up to Bambam, he’d stay nestled away in Jackson’s old room until his master returned. It didn't smell much like Jackson anymore, since he’d only really come in here to get to the private bathroom, but it was still safe. Comforting. In here, he felt protected from the scary, angry, possibly violent hybrid he was trapped in the house with.

As much as he wanted to hide, Bambam knew he couldn't. He’d left a full pot of stew on the stove, and there wasn't even a lid on the pot. What if the stew went bad? Or a bug flew in?! Bambam wouldn't forgive himself if all his efforts of cleaning, cutting, and cooking all those ingredients were wasted. 

Sighing, Bambam quickly stepped out of the room, running down the hall and down the stairs as fast as he could. He cursed the kitchen for only having a doorway instead of a real door; it made him feel more exposed than secure.

Sure enough, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs the minute he turned the stove back on. He tried to ignore it, grabbing his large metal spoon and giving the stew a good stir, and he refused to turn to face the man behind him even when those footsteps trailed into the kitchen. A long moment of tense silence passed.

“Bambam,” Jaebum finally directly addressed him. There was a questioning tone in the way Jaebum spoke his name, but Bambam had no idea what the question even was. Bambam decided to go ahead and turn around. He had to get to the spice rack anyway.

“What do you want?,” Bambam asked. He felt proud of how level he managed to keep his own voice, even if a hint of irritation was evident. To Bambam’s shock, Jaebum bowed his head slightly. It wasn’t a deep bow, but it was still much more respect than he expected.

“I’m not trying to start a fight with you-” Jaebum started, but Bambam couldn’t restrain himself any longer. 

“It’s too late for that! You started a fight with how you acted when you got here, and after what you did tonight, it’s more than a fight. It’s a war! How could you do that?!” Jaebum was tense, Bambam could tell by the jut of his jawline as he grit his teeth and how his ears kept twitching flat against his head.

“Like I was trying to say, I’m not trying to start a fight with you. I know you must feel threatened, as you _were_ the first hybrid in the household, but I assure you, there will be a place for you in Master Wang’s home.” Bambam titled his head, entirely confused as to what Jaebum was trying to say.

“Of course there’s a place for me here. Jackson-hyung actually _wants_ me. _He_ chose me and _he_ bought me, not some busybody uncle.” Jaebum crossed his arms, stamping his foot impatiently against the floor as he did so. Bambam put his own hands on his hips, determined to stand his ground.

“It would do you well to not be so insolent! I’m trying to find common ground with you!” Jaebum said, his voice raised in anger. The two stared at each other for at least a minute, both defiantly refusing to continue the conversation. Bambam felt his blood continue to boil, but Jaebum actually seemed to relax a bit as the moment passed. 

“Look, Bambam, I don’t want to keep fighting with you. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get along. You’re a house hybrid, you’re not a threat to me. I think we all know that house hybrids as young as you are sold with other intentions, but that’s not the case with you and Master Wang, is it?” 

Bambam felt even more offended, raising his eyebrows and glaring pointedly at Jaebum. He knew lots more about what he was trained to do with his master now; Mark had explained it one morning when Bambam was making breakfast and had felt brave enough to ask. It was called sex, and it wasn’t bad if you liked each other. Mark said it could even feel really good. And Jackson and Bambam definitely liked each other, so why would Jaebum assume they weren’t having sex? Bambam wasn’t a child!

“You look angry. I don’t mean to offend you, I mean it in a positive way. I'm proud that my master refuses to engage in such vulgar activities with someone as young as you. You do good things in this house, and you can continue to do that now that I’m here. I’m a primary companion hybrid, I exist to provide Master Wang with sophisticated company. You can continue doing the things you already do, like cooking and cleaning. We don’t have to be enemies. In fact, I think our roles complement each other rather nicely.”

“What, do you think you can steal my master and make me your maid?! Forget it, Jaebum. Jackson-hyung would never chose you over me, and we both know it. If you were his ‘primary companion’ or whatever”- at this, Bambam stopped to wiggle his fingers in air quotations- “then you wouldn’t be down here, trying to talk me into backing off.” If his squared shoulders and clenched jaw line were any indication, Jaebum didn’t appreciate Bambam’s sassy tone one bit.

“Master Wang will come to appreciate me. I’m not trying to force you out; I’m trying to make peace so it won’t be hard for you when that happens!”

“Look, Jaebum, after what you did to Mark today, I don’t think we can just ‘make peace’. Mark is my friend, I’d even say he’s family. Why did you even do it? What did he ever do to you?” Jaebum clenched his teeth, rolling his shoulders back as his tail violently swished back and forth.

“What did he ever do to me? I’m shocked you don’t hate him! Haven’t you seen the way Master Wang looks at him? Reacts to his every touch or movement? It’s obvious what Master Wang wants from him. Honestly, I’d be surprised if they haven’t already engaged in inappropriate behavior.” 

Jaebum’s words made Bambam’s heart clench in his chest, suddenly feeling more ill than angry. Because, yeah, he _had_ noticed the way Jackson looked at Mark, and he’d certainly noticed how flustered Jackson became whenever Mark entered the room. But that wasn’t supposed to scare him. Jackson loved Bambam… But then, why did he look at Mark that way? Did Jackson not look at Bambam that way too? 

“I know he adores you, Bambam. But he looks at you like a real family member, like a real younger brother, and I can accept that. But I _can not_ accept his lust for that- that _whore!_ ” Bambam gasped, stomping his feet as he leaned forward.

“Mark is not a whore! He’s kind and he always looks out for me…” Jaebum shrugged, now looking quite flippant about the whole situation.

“No one ever said whores couldn’t show kindness. I’m not entirely blaming him for it, it’s in his biology. That red hair and the way he sways his hips is telling enough- he’s been bred for that lifestyle and it’s what he will always do. Aren’t you upset that Master Wang did not even invite us to his ‘walk’? If it even was a walk, I have my doubts...”

“I was cooking dinner! I don’t know why he didn’t invite you… Maybe because we were with him in the yard earlier but Mark wasn’t?” Jaebum shrugged again.

“Either way, I do not find it appropriate. Besides, did you know Mark is stealing from our master?”

“Of course he isn’t! That’s ridiculous!” Jaebum looked irritated again, swinging his silver tail wildly.

“If you would not interrupt me, I would explain! I saw Mark earlier, after we decided to return to the house from our outdoor activities. I watched him enter Master Wang’s office with a stack of sticky notes, and he returned them there and left, as if he was hoping the master would not notice!”

“Sticky notes? I’m sure Jackson-hyung wouldn’t mind him using some sticky notes.”

“I disagree. Stealing is stealing, and it is not appropriate. However, I only went into Mark’s room looking for evidence to prove he had stolen them. It is my duty to report misconduct amongst the lower hybrids of the household to my master. Once I had entered the room, I opened a box to try and find where he had hidden the notes. Sure enough, the notes were in the box, all folded up. I carefully unfolded them to try and return them to Master Wang, but the creases caused permanent damage, even with how gently I worked to restore them to the way they were before.”

“Really? All that effort over some sticky notes? It wasn't even that many!”

“The amount hardly matters! It was stealing! Besides, the stolen items became the least of my concerns once I saw the rest of the contents of the box. Your beloved Mark is not even faithful to Master Wang! He has a lover named Jinyoung. If we go to his room, I can prove it right now. I left the letters intact enough that Master Wang could see the evidence of his infidelity.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. _Jinyoung_ is why you went on a rampage?” Jaebum’s eyebrows furrowed together, as he looked confusedly at Bambam. He almost looked innocent, with that baffled, childish expression on his face. Unfortunately, Bambam knew otherwise.

“We know about Jinyoung, both me and Jackson-hyung. He’s been in our house before. Actually, that’s where Jackson-hyung went when he and Mark left earlier. Mark was upset, so he’s driving him over to Jinyoung’s house.” Bambam sighed heavily as he leaned back against the counter. “I can’t believe your bullcrap excuse for your behavior is some sticky notes…” 

Jaebum at least had the decency to look ashamed after he’d processed the information, but Bambam would never forgive himself if he just left it at that. 

“You know what, Jaebum? Jackson-hyung is a good person. No, he’s more than that, he’s absolutely amazing. Even if he does like Mark, he wants Mark to see Jinyoung-hyung. Knowing him, it’s probably even _because_ he cares so much about Mark. Mark loves Jinyoung-hyung, so Jackson-hyung let’s them be together. You could really use that behavior as an example. If you really care about our master, even a little bit, then you’ll do whatever you need to do to make it up to both him and Mark. If he cares about Mark, you should care about him too, or at least pretend to. That’s the only way you can make Jackson-hyung happy. Not by prancing around and bragging about how fancy you are. Plus, he’s not going to just instantly fall in love with you. There won’t be some magic button that makes him like you more than he already likes me and Mark. So you need to shape up, especially if you want to stay here.”

Jaebum looked down at his feet, shame clear on his face. His tail was now curled in towards himself, a sure sign that he was feeling much smaller than he usually did. Bambam ignored him in favor of finally heading over to the spice rack, retrieving a couple of jars and carrying them over to his stew. He added them in, stirring the stew around the pot before putting on the lid and reducing the heat to a very low simmer before turning back around to face Jaebum.

“Oh, and Jaebum?” The other hybrid glanced up, head still bowed slightly. “Just a hint, the cleaning supplies are in the same storage room Mark was ‘stealing from’ upstairs. You might want to take a good shower before you go in there so you don’t stink the place up anymore than you already did.”

~~~

“So, you’re saying my hybrid is in a relationship with your hybrid?,” one of Jinyoung’s owners, Park Seungcheol asked skeptically. Jackson nodded, wishing Mark was still here, but knowing that his retreat to Jinyoung’s room upstairs was what Mark really needed. Really, being grilled on his relationship with Jinyoung was the last thing Mark should have to deal with tonight.

“He’s told me about their relationship. Personally, I have no issues with it. I was meaning to have a visit with you under less stressful circumstances, to try and arrange some sort of visitation system?,” Jackson responded. The couple sitting on the couch across from Jackson looked at each other, seeming to have a conversation without words. Finally, the woman, Sojin, turned back to Jackson.

“We don’t object to the concept of Jinyoung having a relationship, especially with another hybrid. A hybrid is less likely to take advantage of him. Besides, it’s nice to know the inspiration for Jinyoung’s lovely poetry.” 

“Poetry?” The couple both nodded.

“Jinyoung comprises poetry in his spare time, and we have him read it to us. It’s nice to have someone so artistic around.” Seungcheol leaned back against the couch as he spoke, with a fond sort of expression on his face.

“Our Jinyoung is very talented. He can sing, too. And he plays piano! He’s certainly a good catch for your hybrid,” Sojin exclaimed, looking excited to brag about Jinyoung.

“He sounds very nice. Mark only ever has good things to say about him.” The couple nodded enthusiastically, but didn’t say anything else. The lull in conversation felt awkward. Jackson looked down at the glass of water he’d been offered, picking it up and taking a sip just to have something to do.

“You mentioned some kind of stressful circumstances, I’m assuming that’s why your hybrid is so upset?,” Seungcheol finally broke the silence with a question. Jackson looked up, placing his glass back on the ceramic coaster on the coffee table in front of him.

“I have a new hybrid in the house, and he doesn’t get along with my other ones. I had two before he came, Bambam and Mark. But my uncle bought this purebred one for me because he doesn’t approve of the hybrids I picked. I barely even see my uncle, you know? He was never there for me when I really needed him, but now that he has some sort of image to protect he suddenly cares.” At that, Sojin leaned forward, eyes bright with understanding.

“I get that! My dad meddles so much with me and Seungcheol. He wanted me to marry a businessman, since I’m the only child he managed to have and he won’t let me run things since I’m a woman. Well, I wouldn't want to be stuck working for him anyway. But he’s so annoying now that I’ve gone and married a teacher!” 

“Not a teacher anymore, dear,” Seungcheol interrupted, turning to Jackson with a look of displeasure. “Her father’s finally pressured me enough that I’m working for him instead.” Sojin sighed, leaning her head against her husband’s shoulder.

“My dad is the one who bought Jinyoung. Jinyoung is well-bred, you know. But I don’t know all that much about hybrids. And it feels weird, to be responsible for another person like that! Especially when you aren’t expecting it. I mean, we got lucky with Jinyoung. He’s a perfect little angel. But at the time, it was so overwhelming. You know, you can actually put a legal restriction on people transferring ownership of hybrids to you. I called a lawyer and asked about it after my dad gave me Jinyoung, and I went ahead and filed for restriction so he wouldn’t be able to do it again.”

“That’s so good to know! I’ll have one put in tomorrow.” Jackson’s relief at hearing Sojin’s experience was quickly overridden by his worry for Mark. Jackson looked at the clock hanging on the wall next to them, trying to be subtle as he checked the time, but the others noticed and followed his gaze.

“Goodness, it’s getting a bit late. Do you think your hybrid will be alright now?” Sojin asked, brows indicating she was a bit concerned, but Jackson wasn’t sure if it was for Mark or her own beauty sleep.

“Actually, I was kind of hoping Jinyoung could come back with us and stay over? I don’t want Mark to be alone tonight. Jaebum was really, really nasty to him. I don’t meant just some mean words, he went into Mark’s room and destroyed everything that was dear to him. Which were mainly letters from Jinyoung, by the way.” The couple looked at each other apprehensively before turning back to Jackson.

“No offense, but we don’t really know you? And this other hybrid might be violent… I’m not sure Jinyoung would be safe with you,” Seungcheol countered warily. 

“Would it make you feel better to come over with him? There’s plenty of room. And one of my hybrids, Bambam, is an amazing cook. I know he’ll make an awesome spread for breakfast.” 

The Parks turned to each other again, but this time leaned over and carried on a whispered conversation. Jackson took a step back to try and give them more space. His heart was beating erratically in his chest; these people had the ability to make a decision that would affect Mark by quite a bit, and it made Jackson nervous.

“We’ve decided to try it out, just for tonight. Why don’t you go tell them what we’ve decided to do? I’ll go pack our overnight bag, and I can show you Jinyoung’s room on the way to ours,” Sojin finally said. Jackson beamed at them, nodding happily.

“Thank you so much! Really, I appreciate this a lot.” The other two nodded, and Sojin led Jackson up the stairs, pointing to a room in the corner. Jackson knocked a couple of times, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet. A moment later, it swung open to reveal Jinyoung. Jackson instinctively looked for Mark, who seemed to have sat up on the bed when he noticed who was in the doorway. Jackson walked into the room, bending his knees a bit to be more level with Mark’s eyes. Mark dropped the blanket he’d been wrapped in to wrap his arms around Jackson’s neck.

“The two of you have certainly gotten close, hmm? Not even a ‘hello’ for me before you push past me?” the hybrid by the doorway asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. Jackson didn’t know enough about Jinyoung to know whether or not he was seriously annoyed or just teasing, so he reluctantly let go of Mark and turned to face Jinyoung.

“Sorry, hi. I wanted to tell you, I got the Parks to agree to you coming over and staying the night at my house, with Mark. They’re coming over too.” Mark jumped up excitedly, and Jackson noticed a new mark on his neck that made him flush. Thoughts of what Mark and Jinyoung must have been doing were making his heart squeeze in his chest, but it didn’t feel quite like jealousy…

He didn’t have time to think about it. Mark had thrown his arms around Jackson’s neck again, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Thank you, Jackson, that’s so nice of you to do.”

“Jackson?... I didn’t realize you actually directly address him by his first name…” Jinyoung said. His tone held more curiosity than irritation, as he looked over at where Mark and Jackson clung to each other. “Still... I need to be thanking you, Master Wang. Wait, you’re not fond of that title, right? Wang-ssi?...” Jackson shrugged the best that he could with Mark embracing him.

“If that makes you more comfortable than using just my name, I don’t mind it. It’s better than Master Wang, for sure.” Jinyoung nodded, now moving to grab some clothes.

“Wang-ssi, thank you so much for taking Mark to me. Thank you for talking to my owners and for so kindly offering to let me stay with Mark tonight. And most of all, I owe you my thanks for taking such good care of Mark.” Mark pulled away, eyebrows drawn like he wanted to interrupt. “No, baby, let me finish. I just want to thank him for doing what he did. Yes, you’re farther away from me, but from what you’ve said and what I’ve seen, he treats you well. You’ve clearly accepted him and Bambam as your new family, and it makes me happy beyond belief that you are able to have such a happy home to live in. I really should have said this the first time I met you, Wang-ssi, but I suppose I was distracted by… other things.” 

At that, he turned and smiled fondly at Mark, eyes almost disappearing as he looked at his lover. Jackson knew it seemed impossible, but it felt like he could feel Mark’s temperature rise on the spots where their skin still touched. Mark certainly looked almost feverish, with the deep shade of red his cheeks now were. 

Not for the first time, Jackson felt like it was too intimate for his eyes to observe, but he couldn't control how much he craved to stare anyway...

~~~

Mark had never been in Jackson’s room before. Jackson had slept in Bambam’s room for as long as Mark had been there, and he assumed they’d been sleeping there together before he came too, though he couldn't be sure.

It was weird, being in what was technically still Jackson’s room, especially since Jackson himself wasn’t with them. Mark, Bambam, and Jackson still hadn’t eaten yet, so they made their way up the stairs all carrying a bowl of stew. Jackson had then waved at his own door, telling Mark and Jinyoung to sleep there before tiredly moving to show the Parks into Mark’s old room. The one he’d moved out of to be closer to Bambam and Jackson after Jaebum's arrival.

Mark sat on the bed precariously, worried he’d spill his bowl on the pale blue sheets. Jinyoung clicked the lock on the door before following him over to the bed. Instead of sitting next to him, he stood beside the bed, reaching down to lightly rub the pads of his fingers against the soft fur of Mark’s ears. Mark’s eyes instinctively fluttered shut as he leaned up into the touch.

“Eat, baby,” Jinyoung uttered, voice soft and soothing as usual. Mark opened his eyes to glare a little at him, lips jutting into a pout.

“I know you don’t feel hungry. Just eat anyway, for me?” Even though he felt like he should really be used to it by now, Mark’s heart beat faster in his chest. He could never help but marvel at the way Jinyoung always knew exactly what he meant to say, even if he never actually spoke a word.

Mark really didn’t feel hungry, but he grabbed the spoon and forced a spoonful of stew into his mouth. He swallowed it without really tasting it, pushing spoon after spoon into his mouth. After what must have been a few minutes but felt like absolutely forever, Mark looked down, expecting to see the bowl mostly empty. He grimaced when it wasn’t even halfway gone.

“I know, baby, I know… Just finish at least half of it, okay?,” Jinyoung pleaded. Mark could never say no to that voice, or the dark, sparkling eyes staring back at him. Jinyoung’s eyes were abnormally dark for a cat’s. They weren’t as dark as a human like Jackson’s could be, but that chocolate brown was extremely rare, and it definitely made Jiyoung’s good breeding evident to the world.

Mark was absolutely captivated by them, but he couldn’t say if it was really the beauty of such a rarity of if the effect stemmed from those eyes being _Jinyoung’s_ eyes. 

Mark put another spoonful in his mouth, still staring at Jinyoung. Jinyoung smiled encouragingly at him, and Mark’s heart soared.

 _This_ , this is what he’d been missing. He’d become happy with his life here.

Bambam easily became a close friend, something he’d never really had before. Sure, he’d had Jinyoung, but that was different. He’d known there was something entirely unplatonic about his relationship with Jinyoung from the very first time he’d met him. And Jackson… Well, he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Jackson, but he knew he liked him.

Still, there was something missing here, something that had his heart longing and wandering away from the house every time he laid down to fall asleep, and that missing piece was Jinyoung, had always been Jinyoung. Having him here, so close to himself in the house he now called home, made something inside him sing with happiness.

His spoon scraped something hard, making an awful squeaking sound. Mark quickly looked down and was shocked to see that he’d actually finished most of the bowl.

He tipped it slightly to show Jinyoung, who beamed proudly at him, carding a gentle hand through his hair.

“What were you thinking about so hard that made you so distracted, hmm?,” Jinyoung asked, thick dark eyebrows drawn high in both amusement and arrogance. Mark lightly slapped at his arm as he set the bowl on the nightstand.

“You know who I was thinking about, or you wouldn’t be looking at me that way,” Mark said with a huff. Jinyoung dropped the cocky expression for a warm smile, shifting his hand to lightly scratch as the base of Mark’s ears. 

“Anyone would've known that you were thinking of me, with the way you were staring at my face. Almost as if my face was a puzzle you wanted to solve…” The combination of Jinyoung’s voice and his fingers softly petting his ears was making Mark melt down into the sheets. He leaned bonelessly onto Jinyoung's side, softly whining as he fell backwards onto the bed.

“Why don’t I switch the lamp on and turn out the main light?,” Jinyoung asked, voice still so gentle and soft that Mark didn’t bother to open his eyes. Instead, he settled down into the sheets, deeply inhaling the stale remnants of Jackson’s scent. It made him relax even further, letting him burrow down into the blanket strewn haphazardly across the mattress. 

“You really feel comfortable here, don’t you? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you so relaxed,” Jinyoung said as he climbed next to Mark. Mark rolled closer to him, sighing contentedly as Jinyoung’s arms wrapped around his waist. 

They didn’t say anything more for a few minutes. Mark thought he should feel sleepy, as he’d felt pretty exhausted since he’d entered the room. However, something in the way Jinyoung was embracing him had sparked something deep inside his chest. He just couldn’t calm down. His heart was racing, skin tingling, every inch of his body buzzing with excitement.

“Jinyoungie…” the way Mark called out his name in a breathy whine had Jinyoung snapping tense, shudder coursing through his body. Mark whined again at his lover’s reaction to his voice. 

Mark pushed Jinyoung down onto his back before swinging his leg over to straddle Jinyoung’s hips. Jinyoung's hands instantly moved to gently grip Mark’s hips, his fingers slipping under Mark’s shirt to stroke at the skin underneath.

Mark shuffled up a bit so he could lean down and kiss Jinyoung’s plump lips. They were always so soft and pink, perfect against the slight chap of Mark’s own lips. Jinyoung’s hands had now moved far up his shirt, his fingertips almost brushing Mark’s nipples. Mark couldn’t hold back a tiny whimper at the contact.

Jinyoung looked up at Mark imploringly, still drawing slow circles onto his lover’s skin. “Mark, baby, what do want? What do you want us to do?”

Mark drew in a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed by Jinyoung’s voice, his question, and the soft touch on his skin. He knew, of course, what should be the answer to Jinyoung’s question. They’d never had full blown sex before, they’d never had the chance. Mark was always in pain from having to do it everyday with his master, who could never be bothered to be gentle with him. And they hardly ever had the privacy or time to get so far, anyway.

It would probably make Jinyoung the happiest, of any option. And Mark wanted to satisfy Jinyoung, he wanted to impress his beloved, and really, sex was the only thing he knew more about than Jinyoung. Mark could do it, for Jinyoung… Couldn’t he?

He shuddered nervously a little, even though he tried not to. He looked at Jinyoung's face, hoping his action would be mistaken for arousal. But of course, Jinyoung was more perceptive than that. He always was, when it came to Mark, so the furrowed brows of concern wasn’t surprising.

“Mark… We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to. We can just cuddle and kiss a bit and go to sleep, if that’s what you want. I’m perfectly fine with that.” Mark raised an eyebrow at Jinyoung, because when he rocked his hips back he could feel how hard Jinyoung was. Jinyoung chuckled lowly, in a way that sent a shiver of actual arousal down Mark’s spine. “Well, I have to admit, I’d be a tiny bit disappointed. But I’d much rather jerk off later in the shower than do something you’re not in the right mood to do.”

Mark’s heart swelled at the obvious affection in Jinyoung’s voice. He had no idea what he- a common hybrid with only one use- did to end up with the most talented, beautiful, considerate hybrid in the world, but he had ended up there. He was here, with Jinyoung, and for once, they were entirely alone. They were in a large, comfy bed, behind a locked door. Not against the wall of a garden shed or hiding behind a bush. No, they were here, and Mark would be damned if he let the opportunity go to waste.

Even if going all the way still scared Mark a bit, Mark definitely knew from experience that full blown sex wasn’t the only way one could feel pleasure. Really, there was a lot that they could do… 

Mark looked back at Jinyoung’s face, which was still in a slightly worried pout. His eyes caught on that pout, on the way Jinyoung’s lips were just so pink and plush and perfect…

“My mouth? That’s what you want?,” Jinyoung had caught him staring, and Mark didn’t even want to know the look on his face when he was caught. If it was anything like he felt, the raw lust must be alarming.

Mark nodded, still staring at Jinyoung’s lips. He couldn’t bring himself to look away, even though he knew be’d been looking way too long.

Jinyoung leaned up to kiss him again, swiping his tongue over Mark’s lips. Mark kissed him back maybe a bit too eagerly, and he could feel Jinyoung’s smile pressed against his own lips. Jinyoung gently rolled them over so Mark was underneath him, and sat back against Mark’s hips, separating their lips quickly to pull off his shirt. Mark watched, transfixed at just how pale and soft Jinyoung’s skin was. There hadn’t really been any good opportunities for him to just look at Jinyoung in any states of undress, and now he could barely even blink, never wanting to stop looking.

Jinyoung tugged at Mark’s own shirt and he felt so hot he might burst, but he sat up enough to tear it off and throw it to the side, reaching to unbutton and squirm out of his jeans. Jinyoung rolled over on the bed to do the same to his own slacks, and the sight of him wiggling around and struggling to pull them off might have been funny if the outcome wasn’t so hot.

Mark started to pull down his own boxers, but Jinyoung put his hand over Mark’s, stopping him in the middle of the action. Mark looked up curiously, but Jinyoung sighed softly, stroking the side of Mark’s face. Mark leaned into the touch, whining softly at the contact. “Let me…” Jinyoung said, as he moved to once again straddle Mark, this time hovering above his legs instead of settling down. Mark lifted his ass off the bed so Jinyoung could more easily slide off his underwear. 

Jinyoung let out a soft, breathy sort of moan when Mark was entirely naked. Mark hadn’t been naked in front of another person in such a long time, and never with someone he actually wanted to be this intimate with. It was overwhelming, being here with Jinyoung and seeing the awe on his beautiful face.

Part of Mark wanted to plead with Jinyoung that he was nothing special at all, because really, he wasn’t. But if Jinyoung thought he was… Maybe it was better to maintain the illusion. Because Jinyoung _was_ special, and if, for some reason, he thought Mark was… Well, Mark wasn’t stupid enough to tell him otherwise.

Jinyoung’s underwear was still on, formfitting in contrast to the loose boxers Mark always wore. Mark wondered briefly if Jinyoung would be alright with him removing them, but he decided to reach out and finger the waistband, looking up at Jinyoung for a sign of approval. Jinyoung gave it to him with a nod, and Mark clutched the thin fabric and pulled it down before Jinyoung could change his mind.

Seeing Jinyoung, actually seeing him, was kind of amazing to Mark. He let his fingers trail down the sides of Jinyoung’s torso, using the pads of his fingers to grip Jinyoung’s hips. Jinyoung was built broader than Mark, but not too broad… Just the perfect proportions. Mark’s hands wandering over to Jinyoung’s ass, which was rounder and chubbier than his own. Again, just the perfect amount of squish. Mark’s hips bucked up as he groped Jinyoung, suddenly even more desperate for the contact.

Jinyoung didn’t try to stop Mark from rutting up against him. Instead, he trailed his lips down to Mark’s neck, sucking and nipping on the skin right next to the bite mark he’d left on Mark earlier in Jinyoung’s room. Of course, that bite was entirely different- a love bite of sorts, that, when mixed with soothing words and soft caresses, was intended as a comfort.

What Jinyoung was doing now was the opposite of comfortable, but in better ways than Mark could ever had imagined. He threw his head back into the pillow, letting out a sharp exhale as Jinyoung moved his mouth further down Mark’s chest, stopping to pass his tongue over Mark’s nipple. 

The anticipation was killing Mark. He was grateful that they could finally take their time with this, but the thought of Jinyoung’s hot mouth wrapped around his painfully hard dick was almost too much to wait for.

He’d only experienced this particular act once- of course, from Jinyoung. No master would ever lower themselves to give their hybrid pleasure, even when they made him give it to them so many times… But Jinyoung was a different story. Mark’s pleasure seemed almost more important to him than his own. Before meeting Jinyoung, Mark would have found it impossible to understand why someone would rather make their partner feel good than themselves. But now, he entirely understood. Seeing Jinyoung happy, making him feel good- it was more of a turn on than anything Mark had ever experienced in his life. 

Jinyoung’s lips finally came in contact with Mark’s hipbone. Mark shivered violently as Jinyoung ran his tongue over the harsh jut of his skin.

“Jinyoungie…” Mark whined out, his voice small, breathy, and already sounding so fucked out. Jinyoung closed his mouth to smile smugly at Mark, and the sight of that cocky smirk so close to his cock make Mark groan out in frustration.

“Okay, baby… I’ll take care of you now…” Jinyoung trailed off, and Mark barely had time to process what he’d said before he latched his lips onto the head of Mark’s dick, sucking hard before giving the tip a tiny kitten lick. The sight was overwhelming to Mark, and he couldn’t stop himself from throwing his arm over his face. He bit down on his arm to try and muffle his heavy breathing and tiny moans, and from the angle he was in, Jinyoung was partially blocked from his view.

It made him feel less overwhelmed.

His last master had hated when he hid his face, leered at him to always “show off that pretty face I paid for.” Mark worried for a second that Jinyoung wouldn't like it much, either, but he didn’t stop in his ministrations, now sucking ardently on Mark’s length.

Jinyoung tried to take in more of his cock and ended up spluttering back, coughing with tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Mark immediately dropped his arm and sat up, leaning forward to rub Jinyoung’s shoulders, definitely concerned. He knew Jinyoung had never done anything sexual with anyone besides him, and he’d only given Mark a blowjob the one time, so the gagging wasn’t unexpected, but Mark worried nonetheless. Jinyoung took a moment to recoup before he looked right at Mark, directly into his eyes, and ran his tongue over his own lips.

His expression was downright sinful, and Mark moved to pin Jinyoung down before he could even think about it. Mark kissed him, moving their hips together harshly as he rutted against Jinyoung. Their cocks kept rubbing against each other, and Jinyoung collapsed back into the pillows, breaking their kiss to moan into Mark’s shoulder. Mark moved to keep humping against Jinyoung, but the lack of lube was making this not as smooth as he might have hoped. Jinyoung also seemed to notice and tapped at Mark’s forearm, gesturing for him to roll back.

Mark obeyed easily, knowing the determined glint in Jinyoung’s eyes likely meant his goal was giving Mark a good blowjob, and he wouldn’t stop until they were both satisfied.

Sure enough, Jinyoung easily crawled back down the length of the bed and bent down, pulling Mark’s dick into his warm mouth almost immediately. Jinyoung’s sucking wasn’t all that practiced- it couldn't be. Still, Mark was unused to receiving pleasure and he'd barely even jacked off since he’d been in the house, too worried someone would hear and get angry at him. So he was already extremely close to his orgasm, and Jinyoung seemed to have some sort of instinctive sense for it, because he started sucking harder than ever, rolling his tongue on Mark’s underside until Mark couldn't even keep his eyes open, screwing them shut tightly as he suddenly came in Jinyoung’s mouth.

Jinyoung didn't seem all that surprised, despite Mark’s inability to mutter out a warning. He swallowed and made a slight grimace at the taste. Mark knew it wasn’t ever really pleasant- at least, he’d never really gotten used to the feeling. Mark wanted to apologize, but he was always better with actions rather than words.

Mark pushed Jinyoung down onto the bed, rolling easily on top of him. Mark had never got to do this for Jinyoung, and even though he’d usually be enjoying a post-orgasmic relaxation, he still felt buzzing and full of energy, eager to please the person he loved more than he’d ever thought he’d be able to love anyone.

When Mark finally wrapped his lips around Jinyoung’s cock, Jinyoung threw his head back, fisting a handful of Mark’s hair as he rutted upwards into Mark’s mouth. Both his specific breeding and years of experience left Mark entirely without a gag reflex, so he let Jinyoung buck up desperately. It actually kind of amazed Mark to see his beloved but straightlaced Jinyoung finally lose control entirely. 

Mark sucked on the head for a few seconds before moving all the way down, easily accepting all of Jinyoung into his throat. Jinyoung stopped bucking, and Mark looked upwards from his ministrations to see Jinyoung propped up on his elbows, staring down at Mark in an awestruck fashion that made Mark’s heart feel entirely too warm and fuzzy for the task at hand.

Mark didn’t even have a chance to show off all his techniques when Jinyoung grasped wildly at his hair, shutting his eyes and arching his back as he came down Mark’s throat. Mark felt a bit surprised at how not-gross it was. Sure, it still wasn’t the best feeling substance to have to swallow, but it didn’t repulse him either. 

He pulled off Jinyoung’s cock with a slight pop, instinctively licking his lips even though he knew Jinyoung had been in too deep to really get anything on them. Mark crawled up the bed, snuggling into Jinyoung’s arms. Now that he’d made Jinyoung feel good, the exhaustion of the day was catching up to him in full force.

Jinyoung threw the sheet over their bodies before pulling Mark back down, guiding Mark’s head to lay on his bare chest. Mark sighed contently, wrapping an arm around Jinyoung’s torso. 

For the first time in years, Mark both fell asleep quickly and stayed soundly asleep through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the smut finally begins. Please let me know what you thought about this chapter, I always enjoy reading your thoughts. To everyone who's been commenting about Markjin- I hope you enjoyed the end of this chapter!
> 
> Also, this chapter is around twice the length I normally write- and half of that is just smut...


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